


diogenes (what makes a man?)

by someawkwardprose



Series: a study in philosophy [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Brotherhood, Canon-Typical Sentient Rights Violations, Canon-Typical Violence, Clone Centric, Eventual Happy Ending, Friendship, Identity Issues, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mind Control, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Minor Boil/Waxer (Star Wars), Minor Character Death, Pining, Pre-Slash, Queer Themes, clone culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:26:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21957355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someawkwardprose/pseuds/someawkwardprose
Summary: Why does he get a name and I don't?Cody, grappling with identity, purpose, and what it means to be a brother.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & CT-7567 | Rex, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: a study in philosophy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629529
Comments: 266
Kudos: 983





	1. before

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ComteDeLaDoneWithTheWorld](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComteDeLaDoneWithTheWorld/gifts).



> merry christmas, mairead, my darling wifey! I tried to tailor this to your tastes, and I hope I managed! 
> 
> everyone else - this was written on my phone, during a four day trip to ireland. it got pretty long so I cut it in half, but it's only had a cursory look over, and I may have missed some mistakes.
> 
> the title references the famous 'featherless biped' incident - if you don't know it, please google diogenes, his philosophy is _delightful_.

Contrary to public belief during the War, CC-2224 had a name before General Kenobi, thank you very much. He’s four when he watches Jango Fett with little Boba - who’s older than him, but ages like a natural born - and thinks _why does he get a name and I don’t?_

He’s not a rule breaker. Being unable (or unwilling) to follow orders means you get decommissioned, and despite what the longnecks tell them, he’s not willing to throw his life away for nothing, be it rebellion or a Republic he doesn’t know anything about. Besides, he likes the regs, mostly. Things are easier when _good_ and _bad_ are clearly demarcated. He knows what he is, and what his purpose is, and in the future he will sometimes think that natborns would do better if they knew what they were there for too.

But. Names. There’s nothing in the regs against clones naming themselves, and he does check. If he needs to, he can argue a name is easier to call in the field than a string of numbers, and he’s in the command track, one of the _vod'e_ singled out to work closest with a _jetii_. It would be more efficient to have a name, he thinks. 

So the next time an instructor calls on him for a demonstration - this time, it’s Jango Fett himself, which doesn’t make him nervous at all, absolutely not - he ignores the warning looks from his batchmates, and interrupts his serial number to say, “My name is Cody.”

For a second, he thinks he’s made a mistake, because the man raises an eyebrow, and Cody is wondering if he should just throw himself off one of the city platforms before the longnecks get to him. Then Fett smiles. It’s not a particularly nice smile, but it’s not as unsettling as his smirks, so Cody thinks he’s okay to relax. 

“From _kote_?” Fett asks, and Cody nods. Of course Fett would know. “Suits you. Now show your _traat’aliit_ how it’s done.” 

So CC-2224 becomes Cody to the _vod’e_ and the instructors, and even one or two longnecks, although really it’s only Taun-We who makes half an effort to remember. The Primes give him weird looks for a while, but Alpha-17 slaps him on the back and says something about his creativity keeping him alive, and that’s that. 

* * *

Apparently, he starts a trend amongst his brothers, because the next thing he knows, they’re all asking his opinions on the names they choose for themselves. Cody makes appropriate noises of support, even when some of the names get ridiculous. Why ‘36 - now Wolffe - decided he needed two F’s in his name, Cody will never know. 

When he’s in the commissary for breakfast one morning, he spots a _vod_ sitting alone. He only notices because this brother has hair so light it’s almost white - and that makes him stand out. Cody’s four, and he’s learned by now that this is not a good thing. So when he is handed his tray, Cody ignores his batchmates and sits beside him. 

Light-hair looks up, surprise etched clearly on his face. This close, he’s obviously a little younger than Cody, but only by a few batches. Still, that makes Cody his _ori’vod,_ and Jango had always made it clear what the duties of an _ori’vod_ were to their _vod’ika._ All clones are Cody’s brothers, even if they’ve never spoken. 

“Think we’ll ever get to try something _ori’skraan_ out there, or are we having _yai’yai_ forever?” Cody asks, indicating at the nutritional mush they’re being served today. Supposedly, it’s vanilla flavoured. Cody has never tasted actual Alderaanian vanilla, but he has a feeling that this is not it. 

"I heard from Alpha-12 that we'll be getting ration bars on missions," his brother replies, recovering admirably. Cody makes a face. He has tried those, and they're not much better than the mush. 

Light-hair smiles at his reaction, but his eyes are guarded. Cody doesn't like it one bit. 

"I'm Cody," he introduces himself, holding his hand out. He's seen the instructors do it before. Light-hair gives it a bewildered look before taking it, and they shake.

"I'm CT-7567," light-hair replies. 

Cody has only had his name for a month, but it already feels wrong to call a brother by a serial number. "You should pick a name." 

Something in light-hair's eyes brightens. "You're him. The name giver." 

Cody has named exactly one person: himself. He doesn't feel like it's something that deserves a title. He nods anyway. 

"The last thing I need to do is have the _k_ _aminii_ find another 'defect' with me," light-hair says. It will take six years and a war before Cody will realise why he doesn't like his tone. Someone so young shouldn't sound so bitter. Or defeated. 

"You aren't defective," Cody replies sharply. He can guess now why nobody is sitting with light-hair. No-one wants to get close to a _vod_ they're going to lose. 

"I've got one strike left before I'm decommissioned," he says. "I heard them talking about it." 

"Well I'm not going to let that happen," Cody replies, determined. 

"How?" 

And that's how Cody ends up spending his 'leisure time' passing on his command training to his little brother. 

"If you have more skills than most of your batchmates, you'll be safer," he reasons, as light-hair pants for breath on the mats. 

"CC's are crazy," his _vod_ replies 

Cody grins. "That too."

"I must be crazy too," light-hair muses, half sitting-up, leaning on the arm underneath him. "Because I think I'm starting to enjoy this _osik_."

Cody slumps beside his brother, knocking him with his shoulder. Light-hair (not 67, or 7567, or any kind of number at all, Cody won't be calling any of his brothers by a serial number ever again) is strange about affection. He takes it best with rough-housing, or if he can pretend that it's _not_ affection. Slaps on the back, a headlock-turned-noogie. Cody is pretty sure he's the only one that touches him voluntarily. It makes Cody angry.

"Hey," light-hair says, interrupting his musings. "I think I've found a name." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah. I like Rex." 

Cody rolls the word around in his mouth, tastes the sharp consonant. It's short, easy to call for in a battlefield scenario. It suits him, so Cody tells him so. 

"You think?" 

Cody nods. "' _L_ _ek._ It's stupid, just like you." 

"Hey!" Rex whines, shoving at him. "Least it's not 'Wol-fe-fe', or whatever!" 

Cody snorts through his grin. "No, seriously. I like it." 

Rex was right. Wolffe's name _was_ ridiculous. At least Rex had no unnecessary letters. Best of all, Rex chose it himself. 

Rex smiles at him, small and painfully uncertain. There's a strange feeling underneath his breastbone, something warm and soft but also painful, and Cody slings an arm around his shoulder, pulling his _vod'ika_ close. Cody loved his batchmates, loved all the _vod'e,_ but Rex - Rex was something different. Rex was _his_ , in a way that no one else was. 

He holds on until the smaller boy starts to squirm, then releases him and gets to his feet. 

"Come on," he says, and offers Rex a hand up. "You've got another round in you." 

Rex groans. "You just want to knock me on my _shebs_ again." 

"Well, yeah," Cody laughs. "That too."

* * *

Seven brings new challenges, like _puberty._

Cody is never going to be able to look his batchmates in the eye again, but he's had some interesting revelations, like the smuggled in holos of dancing female twi'leks, humans, and zeltrons do very little for him, but their masculine counterparts certainly do. He's taken to having quick, cold showers in the communal 'freshers, and avoiding the sights of his brothers naked bodies, which is ridiculous, because they're _clones._ Then he walks in on a few couples (and triads) in said communal showers, and decides he's not _that_ bad. 

Apart from the voice cracks, the awkward bodily changes, the mood swings, learning to shave, and the constant, inescapable sex talk, there's also something about adolescence that's made the entire _vod'e_ go completely insane. 

Cody does his best to avoid them. Including Rex sometimes. He's having an easier time than some, though. 

Bolt, the second most implacable _vod_ Cody has ever met, stands up on the end of the bunk in the dorms and calmly announces: "I'm a girl."

Cody blinks, and looks around. Thire's eyebrows are raised, Bacara is hanging off the end of his bed to stare, Fox's face even holds half of an expression, while Veer, _s_ _hebs_ parked on Fox's lap, is smiling encouragingly. 

"That's all," she says, and sits back down. 

Everyone in the CC dorms just sort of nods and moves on, but the next morning shows that last night was a coordinated coming out effort, with around two hundred of Cody's siblings having informed their batchmates that they were not, in fact, brothers. Not all are sisters - but Mando'a has no gendered pronoun, and once they all had time to sleep on it, the rest of the _vod'e_ accept their siblings without much fuss. Over the next few years, Cody has a feeling their numbers will grow. 

They don't exactly have many ways to express themselves, especially with the _kaminii_ breathing down their necks, searching for deviations. So it becomes common place, in introductions and naming ceremonies, to include pronouns to make everything clearer. Within the month, Cody does it without thinking.

One late meal, Rex slips down on the seat beside beside Cody, and as has become customary, Cody lifts his arm to let his _vod'ika_ squirm underneath it. 

"We can't let the longnecks know," Rex says quietly. 

"No." Cody agrees. The _kaminii_ couldn't be trusted. "But they managed to plan this without revealing it to us. Surely the entire _vod'e_ can keep this under wraps." 

"But what about when we're on the field?" Rex asks. 

"The Republic officially accepts all gender identities," Cody says calmly, despite his stomach roiling. "Whatever happens, we'll deal with it." 

Bolt, who has always eerily been able to know when she's being spoken about, meets his eyes from across the room. Cody gives her a sharp nod. She jerks her head - her equivalent of a smile - before turning back to her food. 

Cody is a _v_ _od._ He takes care of his siblings.

* * *

Cody is eight when he first sees someone die. 

He knows - he knows that brothers that disappear are decommissioned. He knows they aren't coming back. He knows what death is - the ever looming threat; the eventual, unavoidable end. He knows the longnecks think the _vod'e_ are expendable. He knows what death _is._

But when a training droid malfunctions, it's suddenly different. Suddenly very real. 

Cody holds a trembling Fox in his arms as Veer is taken away, his neck at an awkward angle. Veer was - Veer. The only one who could make Fox smile. Fox shakes and shakes and shakes, a low whining keen rising from his throat every so often, and Cody wishes he could join him. But he's just lost one brother. He won't let the _kaminii_ take this one away too. 

He half guides, half drags Fox towards an empty classroom, sits him down. Grey, who had trailed behind them looks down on the scene awkwardly, so Cody mouths _water_ to him to give him something to do. His brother nods, determined, and scampered off, leaving Cody and Fox alone. 

Cody realises abruptly, that he has no idea what to do himself. 

Fox wasn't a brother he was particularly close to. No one really was, except Veer. Veer, who ignored every one of Fox's stony silences and cheerfully nattered on about nonsense. Most people got sick of Veer and wandered off, but not Fox. Fox sat through every one of Veer's monologues quietly, giving occasional nods when appropriate. Cody had caught them in each others bunks plenty of times. Once, he even watched Fox laugh for Veer. 

Veer would know what to do. But Veer was gone, and Fox was alone. 

He draws his brother into a careful hug, rocking him gently. It takes a moment to realise that Fox's lost noises had morphed into a word, a repeated _whywhywhy,_ and Cody feels his heart break again. Why did Veer have to die? Why were they created to die for a Republic they had never seen, why were they considered expendable when they were as sentient as the rest of the galaxy? Why did Veer not take Fox with him?

He presses his forehead against his brothers, and whispers, " _Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la._ " 

Jango Fett had made it clear that they were to know Mando'a. He told them that they were all _Mando'ade,_ even if they had never set foot on _Manda'yaim_ \- as he was the _Mand'alor._ That meant that they were to know the _Resol'nare,_ that they were to follow the old traditions. Cody realises now that it was Jango's way of giving them something to hold onto. 

Fox shudders, breathes. His eyes are red. 

" _N-Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc_ ," he replies, his voice cracking on the last word. " _Ni p-partayli, gar dara-darasuum."_

"Veer," they say together, the first recital. One day they will list more brothers here, and they both know it. Veer is just the first of many. 

The door slides open and Cody looks up, expecting Grey. Instead, he gets Jango Fett holding a bottle of electrolyte enhanced water. Cody blinks. 

"I'll handle this. Your brother is looking for you," Fett says, which explains exactly nothing. Fett rolls his eyes. "Blondie." 

Cody freezes, looks back at Fox. He doesn't want to leave, but _Rex -_

"Go." Fox says, his voice rough but his face blank. "Let him know you're safe." 

Reluctantly, he leaves, watching Fett pull a chair out in front of Fox, holding out the water. As soon as he's out the room he has an arm full of clinging, crying Rex. 

"I heard - they said, they said someone had _died_ , and they didn't know who, and I thought - I couldn't find you -" his brother is half-hysterical, and Cody - 

Cody imagines Rex in Veer's place, imagines a world without Rex's dry remarks, a world without _Rex_ , and is suddenly, abruptly terrified. He's faced his own mortality today - he might even be coming to terms with it. But losing this brother, _his_ little brother…

"You can't leave me," Rex hiccups brokenly. "You can't march away without me." 

"Never," Cody swears, pulling him close. "Never _Rex'ika_. I swear. You and me, you hear me? It's always going to be you and me." 

Cody will keep that promise. He has to. 

* * *

Cody has to suppress a grin at Rex's gobsmacked face. 

"What do you mean, I'm in command training?" Rex hisses. "I'm a CT! A second gen CT at that!" 

"And you impressed the longnecks enough that you're officially training with us now, _vod'ika_ ," he replies blandly. His lips twitch the tiniest bit. 

"You _shabuir_ , you planned this!" 

"Hardly. I was _four_ , if you'll care to remember." 

"You've always been devious, Codes," Ponds calls from his bunk. He's pretending to read a magazine, but Cody knows that he's watching Rex's reactions avidly like the rest of his batchmates. Rex might be _his_ , but he's their little brother too - and he's become the CC's honorary mascot, with how often he's around, sneaking into Cody's bunk and life. 

"I'll take it as a compliment that you all seem to think I can plan _that_ far ahead," Cody says wryly. He's good, but not four years in advance good. 

"I'm going to be a _captain,_ " Rex says, apparently still processing. 

"Yep," Cody replies, smacking a hand on his shoulder and steering him towards the door. " _Olaror, alor'ad._ I'll treat you to one of Yapper's best." 

"That's probably more of a punishment than a reward," Ponds calls after them, which Cody considers. He's probably right. Yammer was a good slicer, but his brewing skills left much to be desired. However, Thom's stash had been confiscated by the longnecks, and Cody wasn't sure of the rest of the stills. At least he knew Yammer wouldn't poison them. Probably. 

"Captain," Rex repeats dumbly. Cody rolls his eyes, but he's smiling.

His _vod'ika_ has grown up a lot, these past few years. He's been top of his class since he was five - had been considered one of the best cadets since he was seven. He's grown enough that he has people who aren't Cody (although Cody is still the undisputed favourite).

There's a bittersweet swell of pride in Cody's chest. His little brother is all grown up, and one day they'll be separated, out on the field and far away from one another. Soon they'll be risking life and limb, and Cody could lose him without knowing it. 

But Cody doesn't let any of that show on his face. Today is a day to celebrate Rex and his achievements. Cody's fears could wait till tomorrow. 

* * *

They all see their first _j_ _etii_ when they're ten. 

Cody's waiting for Rex's last sim of the day to finish. There's been a swell of excitement around the dorms for the past hour, but no definite answers as to what is going on, and Cody is intrigued. 

_Nosy bastard,_ Rex would say. 

Cody has no intention of investigating without Rex, who was a giant hypocrite. 

He's slouched against the wall across from the door to the training room, arms crossed, ignoring the dirty looks of the longnecks. He has nowhere else to be - this is technically his free time. They prefer all the clones to act as though they're busy at all times, but Cody is good, and he can complete all necessary work faster than they can assign it. He knows there's a smirk on his face as one of the _kaminii_ passes, and while the longnecks showed emotions differently than humans, Cody could tell they were annoyed. 

From the other end of the corridor, Cody spots Lama-Su, and beside them, someone he had never seen before. He straightens. The figure is human, or humanoid - around his height, wrapped in a wet brown cloak that would do little to protect from the raging storms outside of the city. As they draw closer, Cody blinks - this human is no instructor, or at least, not one Cody has seen before. The robes look familiar though, as if Cody has seen pictures of it. 

They draw closer, and the figure is a human, with definitely-past-regulation-length hair, darkened by the rain, but parts of it were dried to an almost reddish colour. Piercing grey eyes scan over him as they draw closer, and suddenly Cody _knows._ This is a _jetii._

The excitement in his stomach - there's a real, live _jetii_ , _here_ \- is soured by the knowledge of what their presence means.

"Ah, Master Kenobi - this is CC-2224," Lama-Su says in their gentle voice. He knows why they aren't using his name - they're displaying a product, not talking to a cadet - but he feels wrong footed, and suddenly very small. But the _jetii_ seems just as uncomfortable with the serial number, betrayed by the small grimace they fail to hide. Cody takes a chance. 

"Cody, sir, he/him/his," he says, saluting. 

Suddenly, the _j_ _etii_ smiles brightly, and holds out a hand. Cody's stomach swoops. "Hello, Cody. I'm Obi-Wan. He/him/his as well." 

His voice is softer than Cody expected, gentler. 

Cody drops his salute and shakes. His hand is warm, and calloused, which tells him that he's a man used to work, and he doesn't break eye contact with Cody. It feels oddly intimate.

The soft chime that indicates the end of classes sounds, and the door to the classroom slides open, allowing a neat, orderly line of _vod'e_ to exit. Each seems to do a double take as they realise there's a stranger in their midst, including Rex.

"Well, I won't keep you, Cody," the _jetii_ , Obi-Wan, says, and smiles again. Cody, with a great deal of reluctance, releases his hand, and watches the man and Lama-Su walk away, heading towards the instructors quarters. 

"You might want to wipe the drool off your face, Codes," Rex teases, grinning. "Who was that, anyway?"

"That, Rex m'boy, was a _jetii,_ " Cody informs him, resisting the ridiculous urge to say _ner'jetii._ It was probably the novelty of seeing an attractive face that was not his own. Instead, he smirks at the gobsmacked look on his brothers' faces.

"Get outta here," Gree comments from behind them. 

"That's a General, right there." 

There's a rumble of excitement around him, but Cody focuses on the realization dawning on Rex's face. Because, just like Cody, Rex knows a _jetii_ can only mean one thing. 

War had found them. 


	2. the war (year one)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. this isn't *next week*. I do have a good excuse. 
> 
> the eagle eyed among you will have noticed that the chapter count has changed. I am *weak* for my audience, and you all were so lovely in the comments and seemed really enthusiastic for me to continue (looking at you, innocent_until_proven_geeky!) that I looked at the one more chapter I had and thought...what if I extend it a little? and now you have a five chapter fic. this is all your fault. 
> 
> warnings for canon-character death, major character injury (he's okay though), violence (geonosis), and mild overindulgence of alcoholic beverages.

A little green _jetii_ appears not long after. He asks for volunteers. 

Cody is only willing to stick his neck on the line for his _vod'e_ . He appreciates the _jetii_ giving them the choice, but Cody will only risk his life when he no longer has a choice. 

But then, Rex stood up. 

" _Jare'la utreekov_ ," Cody hisses under his breath as jams his _buy'ce_ on. Rex can't hear him, of course, seeing as he's been assigned to an entirely different squad - and it _burns_ Cody, knowing that idiot is out there without Cody to watch his back. Gregor - Cody's new second in command - gives him a sympathetic look before he pulls on his own helmet. 

Cody reminds himself that Good-eye is a brother, and that he'd take care of Rex. He tells himself that Rex is _good,_ and he could take care of himself - Cody had taught him how. He needed to trust that. 

He grabs his blaster, and heads towards the transport. If Rex didn't survive this, Cody would kill him.

* * *

Geonosis is - Geonosis is a bloodbath. 

Veer's death did not prepare him. Cody watches _vod'e_ fall, and he can do nothing but survive. _Jetii_ die right alongside them. He can't find the breath to feel terrified, but he knows that, for the next few months at least, every time he closes his eyes he'll see the bloody sands of the arena.

He loses two _vod'e_ before he even steps onto the sands, shot down by droids before they had even entered the melee, and in their armour they're impossible to identify. It's awful, because they were people too, they were his _vod’ike_ , but all he can think as they fall is _that could have been Rex. That could have been you._

Cody blasts a droid as it takes aim at a distracted _jetii_ , and joins the carnage. Ranks don't seem to matter, here. The longnecks training means nothing. He’s running on instinct and fear, and Cody hates Rex, just a little, for making him come here. 

“Commander, over here!” Gregor shouts, and Cody turns to see his second using a transport as shelter, covering another _vod_ \- a captain by the looks of things - whose bent over a fallen commander, only identifiable by his pauldron. Even though he’s not close enough to read the numbers on the arm, Cody knows, deep in his bones, that the captain is Rex. 

When he’s close enough, Rex grabs his arm. “I don’t know what to do,” his brother shouts over the din, his voice tinged with desperation. “My commander -” 

“You’re in charge now, Rex,” Cody interrupts. “You’re the captain!” 

“We don’t even have a battle plan!” 

It’s Rex’s karking fault that they’re out here, being shot at, and regardless of how the battle ends, Cody is going to throttle the _shabuir._ “Stop the clankers from killing the Generals!” 

Cody takes aim at a clanker, and assesses the arena. Some transports have left - or been destroyed - but there are still plenty of _jetii_ left in the arena, and most of the volunteer troopers. The little _jetii_ \- General Yoda - hadn’t been sure what they were going to find when they had arrived, and they hadn’t been given proper instructions. That negligence was getting his _vod’e_ killed in droves, and the _jetii_ weren’t doing much better. 

He’s supposed to be relying on a General, but as far as he can see, the _jetii_ know less about battlefield tactics than the 5 year old cadets. Cody does what he was trained to do, and takes command of the situation, opening his comm to the troop-wide frequency. “Arena’s almost clear! Start by evacuating injured Generals and _vod’e!_ ” 

“ _Ftzzz -_ not enough transports - _fttzzz_ \- orders -” 

“You can make multiple trips, and there’s no one else giving orders,” he snaps, before turning back to Rex. “Use the brain I know is rattling around that skull of yours, and take command of your _aliit_ , Captain.” 

Rex gives him a long look, then a sharp nod, tapping his own comm, and Cody dives headfirst back into the battle. He drags a _jetii_ \- one with a braid, so they couldn’t have been a General - to a transport, then two _vod’e,_ and covers a medic sprinting across rust-coloured sands. He picks off four droids, and signals another commander - Bolt, he thinks - to get moving. 

It almost looks like the battle is winding down - at least, the battle in the arena. He knows there’s more action going on around the planet, but Cody is pulling out after this and dragging his idiot little brother with him. It’s as he thinks this he spots Rex, twenty feet away, shouting orders like he’s in charge, _finally._

A swell of - something, not quite pride, but not quite anything else, catches in his throat. 

For a second, he thinks back to the tiny, blond-haired cadet eating alone, and then he blinks, and it’s Rex, competent, and almost confident, the way Cody always knew he could be. 

He starts jogging towards the last of the stragglers, when he realises it’s all going a little too well.

* * *

Later, he will remember Rex’s shout, the way his voice cracked on the second syllable of Cody’s name. 

Later, he will remember his eyes focusing on his helmet, blown clean off and several feet away. 

Later, it would occur to him that the armour behind it belonged to Jango - and that the helmet, and his head - was missing. 

That is all later. All Cody knows right now is pain, spreading across his left temple, blood trickling into his eye. Agony radiates through his back, and he can’t - he can’t feel his legs, no, please, not his spine, the longnecks will decommission him - 

Someone’s hand are on him - and Rex, he’d recognise Rex’s voice anywhere, is all around him, loud and frantic. “You can’t - you can’t leave me, Codes, c’mon, you promised - MEDIC! - come on, you’re not allowed to march away!” 

Cody tries not to, but his eyes slide shut without his permission, and the darkness drags him under. 

* * *

“He’s really dead, then?” 

Cody is alive. 

He’s also in medical, and judging by the threatening _clack_ of pincers that the _jetii_ medic - _healer,_ sorry - gave him, he’s going to remain there, or else. 

“Yeah. I can’t believe…” 

Rex trails off, but Cody can fill in the blanks. _I can’t believe he’s gone. I can’t believe he let a_ **_jetii_ ** _kill him. I can’t believe he betrayed us._

Jango Fett had been an almost omnipresent, if distant, figure in their lives. Cody has faint memories of being put back on his feet as a very, very young cadet - of a warm calloused hand, ruffling his hair. He remembers the first time he held a blaster in his (too small) hands, and it was that weathered voice directing him. It was Jango Fett that Cody first introduced himself to. He was there, and Cody had never really thought about him ever _not_ being there. Cody might have come to terms with he and his siblings mortality, but he had never factored in Jango. 

But there’s always been a disconnect between _Jango_ and _Jango Fett. Jango_ told the little cadets stories of _Manda’yaim,_ taught them their mothertongue and the _Resol’nare_ and how to lie to the longnecks. _Fett_ taught them how to shoot and how to kill and how to die with honour, if there is such a thing. _Fett_ helped the _Kaminii_ create soldiers out of children. 

Dying on the other side of a war he’d raised them to fight somehow doesn’t feel out of character for _Fett._

Cody sighs, and ever the big brother, he asks, “Bob’ika?” 

“On Kamino, with the _vod’ike._ ” 

At least that was something. 

Jango Fett was dead. Cody was not. That was something. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Jango’s death had nothing to do with you.” 

“No, but you -” Rex gestures vaguely at Cody’s face. The scar, as healed as it ever would be, twinged. 

“I’m just as ugly as you are, brother.” 

“You could have died, Cody!” 

“I’m aware of that, thanks,” Cody snaps back. His spine hurts, hell - his whole body feels like one big bruise. But the _healer_ insisted that there was no nerve damage, and that he’d back on his feet within the week. Xie had saved patients closer to death than he was, xie said, pincers clicking. 

It’s my fault,” Rex says miserably, not meeting Cody’s eyes. 

“You didn’t blow up the transport, idiot.” 

“But you wouldn’t be out there if I hadn’t-” 

“If my idiot baby brother hadn’t decided that he was going to get a headstart on nearly dying? Yeah. But the injury? That’s not on you, _Rex’ika._ It could have happened to any of us. I was just the unlucky bastard to be standing closest to the thing,” and Cody’s throat almost closes up, because Rex had been nearby, Rex could have been caught in the blast, and Cody thanks every deity he’s ever heard of that it was him, not Rex. 

He lifts an arm, hiding his wince, and Rex delicately tucks himself under it, careful not to jostle the bed too much. “ _Kar’taylir, ori’vod. Gedet’ye k’oyacyi.”_

“ _'_ _Lek,_ ” Cody murmurs, and presses his lips to his little brother’s forehead. “But please stop trying to get yourself killed, my heart can’t take it.” 

“I heard that it tends to go with old age,” Rex murmurs back, the moment broken. “A little birdy told me you were getting a commendation.” 

Cody makes a face. “Shut up, I don’t even want to think about that.” 

“For _special acts of valour in overwhelming odds,_ ” Rex repeats, a grin hiding in his voice. 

“Why couldn’t the blast just kill me,” he groans.

* * *

He meets General Kenobi officially three weeks later, boarding the vessel that will become his home for the next few years, not that he knows it. Cody is in his dress greys, and wholly uncomfortable with his lack of armour - and helmet. He wasn’t vain, exactly, but he still wasn’t used to looking in the mirror and seeing the scar that stretched from his temple to his cheek. He’s distracted, however, when the officers are escorted to the bridge of the star destroyer. The _Negotiator_ is a beautiful ship, but Cody can’t help but feel like the man standing at the helm eclipses it.

It’s the first _jetii._ Obi-Wan. Of course, Cody had recognised his name on the briefing, but knowing is different from seeing. He looks even better than he did on Kamino. Dryer, too.

“Welcome,” his new General says, smiling, and Cody sees that he’s not the only officer who has suddenly found themselves hot under the collar. 

There is a presentation, both a greeting and a sitrep, which Cody listens to intently, and then they split off, everyone introducing themselves to one another. Cody shakes hands with a Vice-Admiral, before a hand catches his arm. 

“Commander Cody, wasn’t it?”

“Sir!” Cody startles, saluting before the words sink in. “You - remember me?” 

Obi- no, Kenobi, damnit - Kenobi’s face falls a little, before he rallies. “Of course. I heard about your injury on Geonosis - and I hear you saved a lot of lives on Geonosis.” 

_Of course._ Kenobi was his commanding officer, he probably just read Cody’s file. Cody’s stomach sinks a little, but he tries to smile anyway. 

“And I’m offended that you thought I would forget our introduction on Kamino,” Kenobi adds, a hint of mischief in his voice that Cody will learn to be suspicious of. “For future reference, Commander, I never forget a face. Especially not one as handsome as yours.” 

And then he’s gone, leaving Cody desperately wishing for his helmet again, if only to hide the heat on his face.

* * *

“You like your General, then?” Ponds asks over the fuzzy comm. 

“ _'L_ _ek._ You?” 

“Yeah. He cares about us,” and Cody could hear fondness in his tone. “Grey reports similarly. His commander was General Windu’s trainee.” 

“Padawan, Ponds. The General’s have special words for these things.” Ponds makes a face, but Cody continues before his brother can start an argument. “Bly seems to like General Secura, not that he responds to me that often, and Bolt is, well, Bolt.” 

Every CC knew what that meant. 

“What about your boy? Heard he was a commander in his own right now.” 

“He’s officially a Captain, but he’s taking over the new 501st,” Cody smiles. “No General as of yet - but I heard there’s a newly ‘Knighted’ General being sent to take over.” 

“A shiny General? He’ll have his work cut out for him.” 

“He’ll manage,” he replies confidently. 

“He always does. I need to go - but I’ll let you know if I hear about anyone else. _K’oyacyi_.” 

“ _K’oyacyi_ ,” Cody echoes, but Ponds has already disconnected.

* * *

It turns out that Cody’s General trained Rex’s General, and somehow this means that they get to work together pretty often. Cody thought the _jetii_ had rules against ‘attachments’, or something like that, but he isn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Rex seems similarly pleased, making faces at him over his General’s shoulder. Cody really should reprimand him, but frankly, Skywalker has been doing the same to General Kenobi, so he assumes it must be learned behaviour. He leaves his brother alone for a month, and this is what he gets. 

He resists the urge to groan when _his_ General turns, ever so slightly, so that Cody can see his single raised eyebrow. 

“Anything I should know?” he asks after the briefing, voice deceptively mild. 

“No, sir,” Cody says. 

“I did happen to note that my Padawan’s Captain and yourself seemed...acquainted.” 

“We’re brothers, sir,” he points out. 

“Commander Bolt did not spend an entire briefing pulling faces at you, if I recall correctly,” the General says, his mouth quirked. 

“Rex is my _little_ brother,” Cody sighs, resignedly. “He didn’t mean any harm by it.”

Kenobi laughs a little. “Don’t worry, I’m familiar with the type,” he says fondly. “You could have hardly missed Anakin.”

“Rex should know better,” Cody grumbles. “I know I definitely trained him better.” 

“So should Anakin, and here we are. You and Captain Rex are close, then?” Kenobi asks, looking genuinely interested. Cody has learned that while his General can politick with the best of them, he only asks the clones questions if he really does want to hear about it. 

“Yeah. He didn’t really get along with his batchmates, so I looked out for him. Got him his captaincy,” he says, a little bit of pride colouring his voice. “He’s brilliant.” 

The General’s face is soft when Cody looks at him. “He is very lucky to have such a good _ori’vod_.” 

A blush threatens to escape, but Cody has more control than that. “You speak Mando’a?” 

“A little. I spent a year on Mandalore as a Padawan, and I picked up enough to get by,” he dismisses. “Although, between you and me, Waxer and Boil are not as subtle as they think they are.” 

Cody groans. “I’ll have a word with them. They shouldn’t even be thinking about that stuff around a superior.” 

“Don’t worry,” Kenobi waves a hand. “I grew up in the Temple. There’s no such thing as a secret amongst a group of adolescent Force-sensitives. And I raised Anakin.” 

They share a look that Cody recognises is specific to long-suffering older brothers. 

After, Cody will realise that it was the first informal, non-war related conversation he had with his General. He desperately hopes they will have more. 

* * *

“I hate him,” Cody groans into Rex’s shoulder as his brother laughs. 

Rex pats his shoulder sympathetically. “There, there.”

“You don’t get it,” he accuses, pulling back to poke Rex in the stomach. It’s not often they get to do this, even though the 212th and the 501st are often paired together. It’s just that both of them are paired with Generals that always seem to be in the thick of it, and they rarely find themselves with the same downtime. But tonight, they’re both on Coruscant, and they’re both free (Cody suspects their Generals interference, not that he’s complaining). They’re in 79’s, which means no armour to protect Rex’s soft squishy bits, so it’s not the first time Cody has done that tonight. He has perhaps indulged a little too much. He maintains that it is most definitely not his fault. 

It’s all his General’s fault. 

Kenobi is a great General, and a good man. He cares about the clones in a way many of the natural borns don’t - he makes the rounds among them and tries to talk to all of the troops. He knows many of them by name, and never, ever forgets their pronouns. He doesn’t think his life is worth more than theirs, and he happily risks it to protect them. General Kenobi looked at the clones, born to die in this war, and decided that he was going to do his best to protect them. Cody knows that - despite what Rex or Wolffe or Bly or Ponds may say - that he has the best kriffing General in the entire GAR. 

But the man is a _complete karking nightmare._ He looks like some kind of vengeful warrior deity from the stories Jango once told on the battlefield, a tornado of beige and electric blue, obliterating lines of clankers and generally pulling off miracles - and he refuses to wear a scrap of armour while doing it. General Kenobi avoids the medics until he is sure all the troops have been seen to - even when he’s broken _five kriffing ribs._ The bastard is making Cody grey before his time. 

It doesn’t help that the man was a consummate flirt. He verbally dances with Ventress and Grievous, and _teases_ pretty much anyone they’re sent to negotiate with. Even the troopers aren’t safe. Cody has long since learned not to react when the General made a comment - he’s starting to believe Kenobi doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.

Yet he never made actual advances. No, General Kenobi respected the chain of command - respect _them_ too much to ever breach that barrier. 

_Force,_ Cody wishes he would. 

Obi-Wan was just, just so - _Force._ He was a true warrior. He taught Cody to appreciate food for its flavours, and always let him try his tea, and never forgot that Cody was a person - 

And he was really pretty. “His hair, Rex, you just don’t get it.” 

“That’s it, I’m cutting you off,” Rex sighs, and Cody groans as his arm is lifted. Rex slings it over his shoulder, wrapping his own around Cody’s waist. “C’mon, bud, it’s time for you to head to your bunk.”

Cody pushes his head into Rex’s as they stumble back towards the barracks. “Hey. Hey, Rex.” 

“What.” 

“I love you.” 

Rex sighs again, but it sounds fond. “Love you too, Codes.” 

Cody falls asleep in his bunk with a smile on his face, and dreams in flashes of copper and blond.

* * *

They ship out the next morning. 

“Hello, Commander,” his General greets him cheerfully, and Cody grunts a greeting. He was so very thankful they were on good enough terms that he could, occasionally, forgo protocol. “Good night?” 

“Alcohol. Rex.” 

Kenobi hums, but Cody just knows that _shabuir_ is laughing at him. Bastard. It was all his fault. 

“I have caff, if you’re up to drinking it.” 

Strike that. Cody’s General was amazing. 

“Well, I suppose you could be using today to catch up with paperwork, Commander. I have to oversee departures sometimes.” 

“ _Vor entye,_ ” he mumbles fervently. Cody _loves_ his General. 

In his dimly lit office, Cody rests his head against the desk and is contemplating a strategic nap when his comm beeps. He gropes for it and cracks one eye open to glare at the screen. 

**_From Rex:_ **

_Still alive?_

**_To Rex:_ **

_Kriff you._

**_From Rex:_ **

_Aww. Bad morning?_

**_To Rex:_ **

_Shabuir_

**_From Rex:_ **

_Love you too, brother._

* * *

The thing is. 

The thing is, Cody doesn’t hate it. 

He should. It’s not that he doesn’t want the war to end. He doesn’t want his _vod’e_ to die in backwater shitholes no one really cares about except for making sure The Enemy doesn’t have it. He doesn’t want to lose anyone else. 

But. 

Waxer has an arm around Boil, and Boil is pretending not to care, but the tips of his ears are red, and Waxer is positively beaming as he presses a kiss to Boil’s cheek, and General Kenobi just smiles at them. They fire is crackling, and the sounds of the wildlife are far enough away they’re just relaxing. Longshot and Gearshift are arguing about how they were going to cook some large mammal that Wooley took down earlier, and _kaysh_ is faking modesty, but pride emanates off _kaysh_. The conversation is light, and the company is good, and Cody wishes that he could extend the moment forever. 

Kenobi is explaining - something - to an eager looking shiny, and he in the flickering light his hair matches the colour of the embers, his face open and relaxed. He seems to feel Cody’s presence, and looks up. Their eyes meet over the fire, and Cody smiles, and it almost looks as if the General blushes. It must be a trick of the light, but his breath catches anyway. 

Longshot yelps as Gearshift smacks him, and it quickly escalates, so Cody sighs and gets to his feet, and takes over. 

He doesn’t want the war. But he does want this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> most of the mando'a translations are in the notes of chapter one, so here's what isn't: 
> 
> Jare'la utreekov - Jare’la means stupidly oblivious of danger/asking for it, utreekov means emptyheaded, e.g. fool or idiot  
> Buy'ce - helmet  
> Kar’taylir, ori’vod. Gedet’ye k’oyacyi. - Kar’taylir means to know, to hold in the heart, Gedet’ye is please, and k’oyacyi is a greeting, meaning literally “stay alive”. I’ve assumed the traditional Kar’taylir darasuum is romantic love, because darasuum means eternal, so Kar’taylir is a platonic version - Rex is literally saying “Love you, big brother, please stay alive”  
> Vor entye - Thank you, literally “I accept a debt” - Cody means it rather literally here :)  
> Kaysh - Mando’a has no gendered pronouns, and doesn’t differentiate between subject/object/possessive pronouns so in basic Wooley would use they/them. Except we’re respecting Mando culture here and kaysh gets to use kaysh pronouns.
> 
> I absolutely refuse to give anymore estimates of updates because they'll undoubtedly be wrong


	3. the war (year two)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp I wrote this all on thursday and friday night because I was so inspired by the comments. comments are really proven to be the best way to motivate a writer, I have to say. 
> 
> okay. so. brief warnings for: suicide ideation (mild, but there), a lil' Anakin bashing (i love him but Cody isn't Obi-Wan, and he doesn't overlook his various flaws), grief, off-screen character death, and what is most likely undiagnosed depression, and a reminder that the clones don't have rights and are only not slaves under a technicality. despite all this, this was an unbearably fluffy chapter to write, so also warning for scenes that made the author painfully aware of their singledom, extremely sappy gay thoughts, and oh my fucking god cody stop pining. we are earning the queer themes tag. you'll see I've updated the tags a little - there are more updates coming, but I'm not willing to spoil this chapter for those who are reading as it's updated.

The second year of the war is - different, somehow. 

Perhaps it is because the death toll is slowly becoming more obvious. They lose at least two _jetii_ a week, and Cody’s _vod’e_ are dying in droves. The first year wasn’t easy, exactly; war is never easy. But somehow, it didn’t feel like this did. 

Cody has seen some terrible things. Cody has _done_ some terrible things. 

He’s watched his _vod’e_ be mowed down on the battlefield. He was the one to give the order to advance. 

_Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum._ Veer. Jango. Sundance. Tone-Deaf. Ponds, he says, and hears his voice crack on his batchmates name. Percy, Trixi, Blue, Seventy, Atin, Target, Erica, Stitches, Olee, TJ, Lockjaw, Nipper- the lists he recites at night grows longer every day. 

Some nights, Cody wonders how _he_ has managed to survive this long. 

On the worst nights, he sometimes wonders why he bothers. 

Luckily, the worst nights are few and far between, but the thought eats at him, haunts him during his waking hours, echoes in his head as he stands beside his General, whose smiles have grown less genuine, and eyes more sorrowful. 

To counteract that thought, he’s taken to making a different recital in the mornings, of all the things he is grateful for, of all the people he is _living_ for. His battalion. His batchmates. Kenobi. _Rex._

This list gets shorter every day, as he loses more of the people he cares about, but Cody stubbornly repeats it. He’ll probably die in this war, but he won’t go without a fight.

* * *

“C’mon, guys,” Cody groans. He thought the communal showers would be abandoned this late into the night cycle. Apparently, Boil and Waxer thought so too. 

“Sorry, Commander,” Waxer says, his eyes trained on the ground. Boil looks like he would rather be spaced than be in the room right now, and Cody feels the same. 

“What if I had been the General?” For all his flirting, Kenobi was notoriously reserved. He refused to be seen in anything less than full robes, although he would regularly ditch the cloak somewhere. Despite this, he had been remarkably good natured about sharing showers with the troopers, (since his private shower stopped working after the _Negotiator_ took damage, and they had prioritised essential repairs,) as long as the shower was reasonably quiet. The clones, though they had no such compunctions with one another, were perfectly happy to respect the General’s privacy and boundaries. The few who weren’t dealt with Cody. He wasn’t sure what about it discomfited his General, but Cody _really_ didn’t want to push him any further out of his comfort zone. Just because he respected his General, of course.

“Oh, like you aren’t desperate to have some _fun time_ with General Kenobi yourself,” Waxer mutters. 

“What was that, _vod?_ ” Cody snaps. 

“Sorry sir, ignore him,” Boil says, grabbing his _riduur_ ’s arm and dragging him away. “He’s just - frustrated.” 

Cody waits until they’re gone before he hits his head against the wall. He wasn’t that obvious, surely? _What if the General found out?_ Or worse. _What if he already knows?_

* * *

“Please stop promoting me.” 

“No.” 

Cody sighs. “I now rank above most Generals.” 

“And you deserve to,” Kenobi smiles - one of his real smiles - and dear force that mouth is dangerous. “My dear Commander, please try to enjoy the fact you now rank higher than my Padawan.” 

Cody considers it. It would be nice to tell Skywalker off sometimes. But...“The extra paperwork isn’t worth it.” 

“It’s already been processed, I’m afraid.” 

Cody knows that really, Kenobi doesn’t want to put anymore on his plate. He also knows the real reason why he’s being promoted. There are so many natborn officers - natborns that aren’t _jetii_ \- who consider Cody and his _vod’e_ little more than meat droids; useful as canon fodder and not much else. Putting Cody in a position of power - this was a strategic move, as well as a ‘reward’. 

He sighs again, this time in acceptance, and the General knows he understands. The man pats his shoulder. “Cheer up, Commander. The next battle we’re in, I’ll let _you_ give Anakin an order. He might even listen to you.”

* * *

It’s not that Cody _dislikes_ Skywalker. He respects the _jetii_ , and he’s General Kenobi’s, which means he’s sort of Cody’s too. Skywalker, despite certain sentiments held by the High Generals, is a good man, and he’s good to Rex and the troopers under his command. Rex likes him, and Rex, bless his cantankerous heart, barely likes anyone except the _vod'e_. But he’s reckless, and arrogant, and that makes him dangerous. 

“He even put our Commander at risk,” Rex says blankly. “For a kriffing droid, we could have lost Tano.”

Rex likes Skywalker but he _adores_ Tano. She is to Rex what Rex is to Cody. If he was a lesser man, Cody might feel jealous, but he’s not, and so Tano is also one of his through Rex, even if he’ll never tell the _jet’ika_ that. 

“I know, Rex.” 

Skywalker only sees the smaller picture. He’s a good man, but he’s blinded by his attachments, and through Skywalker, Cody finally understands why the _jetii_ have rules against that kind of thing. Cody knows that Skywalker has almost blown entire missions for Senator Amidala, knows that his own General shoulders the weight of Skywalker’s lies.

“C’mere,” Cody says, and wraps an arm around Rex’s shoulders. “You’ll look after Tano, and I’ll look after you, okay?” 

It’s not that he dislikes Skywalker. It’s just that Cody doesn’t like him either. 

* * *

“Commander.” 

Cody looks up from the blurring lines of the report. His General’s voice sounds as tired as Cody feels, but unlike Cody, he shows no visible signs of exhaustion, with his perfectly done tunics, and not a hair out of place. He is also holding two mugs of caff. 

“ _V_ _or’e,_ ” he grunts as Kenobi hands it over. 

“Two hours, and then you’re going to sleep.” 

Cody is too tired to try and be professional. “You’ve slept as much as I have, hypocrite.”

Kenobi sighs. “And I have the Force to draw upon, Commander.”

“These reports need to be finished before morning,” Cody retorts. “I know you have just as many.” Not including the ones Skywalker dumped on his lap. 

“And I can still see straight,” he shoots back. “You’re exhausted Commander. You can’t do anything like this.”

The real issue they’re dancing around - the real reason both of them are here, awake, in the middle of the ship’s night-cycle, is that neither of them _can_ sleep. Cody can’t be sure what keeps his General up, but he guesses that it’s probably the same reason as his own. 

The other problem is that Kenobi is right. Cody is useless like this. 

Kenobi, apparently fed up of waiting, snatches the caff back. Cody glares weakly. “Cody.”

The thing is, Kenobi is like Cody. He likes the regulations, and he’s a stickler for propriety. The fact he’s dropped Cody’s rank - it means something. So when his General offers him a hand up, he sighs, accepting his fate. Being the second highest ranking officer in the ship, means he has the privilege of a private bunk in his office, and he lets himself be herded into it. He’s barely awake to feel his armour being stripped off, and almost doesn’t notice the blanket being draped carefully over him, but he knows he doesn’t imagine the warm hand on his shoulder, or the quiet, “Sleep well, my dear Commander.”

When he wakes up, after six hours of nightmare free rest, he sees that all his paperwork has been completed for him, just waiting for his signature. Cody makes a note to pick up his General’s favoured tea the next time he has shoreleave. 

* * *

“Bolt has a girlfriend,” Wolffe announces. Bolt, who is currently assigned to General Muln, looks up and raises an eyebrow. 

It’s a forcedamned miracle that they (they being Wolffe, Bolt, and Bly) are all piled into Cody’s cramped officers quarters onboard the _Negotiator._ However, Generals Koon, Muln and Secura are currently in a meeting with Cody’s own, for a joint assault on a Seperatist blockade affecting a mid-rim planet that Cody doesn’t care about, and none of them required their commanders, so said commanders had the evening off. It’s a miracle, or a conspiracy, but frankly, Cody doesn’t give a damn. Bolt even stole some of her General’s stash for the occasion, so they’re pleasantly tipsy. 

“Spill,” Bly drawls, and Wolffe smirks. 

“Fox spotted Bolt in 79’s with a lady friend, three times last leave. They were apparently... _intimate,_ ” Wolffe draws out the word.

“I will end you,” she informs him. 

“Bolt, you sly dog,” Cody laughs.

She sniffs. “For your information, I don’t have a girlfriend,” she pauses. “I have a _riduur_.” 

Bly spits out his mouthful of pilfered alcohol, while Wolffe’s jaw drops. “You have a what?” 

“You heard me.” 

“But - you can’t. Legally, I mean,” Bly tags on when Cody and Bolt turn matching glares on him. Cody has at least three _riduurok’e_ in his battallion, regardless of what the Republic thinks about it, and he won’t stand for anyone dismissing that. But it’s Bolt’s marriage, and he knows her well enough to recognise that she wouldn’t want him to be her knight in shining armour. 

For a moment, an expression Cody can’t decipher flicker’s over his sisters face, before she squares her jaw. “Legally, no. But we had the ceremony that her people require, and we exchanged the _riduurok,_ and that’s good enough for both of us,” she says. It’s not, not really, Cody knows, because even if Bolt considers this girl her wife, the galaxy doesn’t, and that must burn. Bolt doesn’t even have the right to marry someone, because she’s not considered a person, just property, and for a minute, Cody rages at the injustice of the galaxy that he and his _vod'e_ must suffer through. 

But Cody won’t say any of that, not tonight. “Well, congratulations, _vod,_ ” he drawls, reaching over to catch her hand. “I’m a bit miffed I didn’t get an invite. I don’t even know this girls name, how am I supposed to tell her to take care of you?” 

“You don’t,” Bolt glares, but it’s softened by the gratefulness in her eyes. “Her name is Aliyyah, she’s an aide for the Senator of Alderaan, and,” here, Bolt bites her lip in an uncharacteristic show of emotion. “She’s the most wonderful woman in the whole galaxy.” 

Wolffe whistles lowly, while Bly’s eyebrows shoot up, but all Cody does is smile. “Well, I dunno. She’s got some competition for that title in this room.” 

Bolt pinches the skin between his knuckles and he yelps, and they all start laughing, and the conversation moves on, but Cody will never forget the look in Bolt’s eyes, for as long as he lives. 

He wonders if that’s how he looks, when he talks about his General.

* * *

The General could speak solely in innuendos and double-entendres, and he could joke and implicate with the best of them, but whenever the conversation grew a little more explicit, a little more bawdy, the man clammed up. It was something most of the troopers had picked up on, but to Cody it was like a flashing red light. It didn't really make sense to Cody - he _knew_ his General wasn't prudish. He also knew that it had been the General who had arranged for the quiet distribution of certain books to the troopers who hadn't had a proper _education_ , so he obviously had no issues with them being sexually active.

Cody might not understand, but the General had always respected their boundaries, so he would respect his. It was up to him to play the hardass Commander - to shut the shinies up after their first shore leaves, to raise a judgemental eyebrow and put his _vod_ off giving anymore details. He hears the whispers, sometimes - about how he’s in love with the General, how he’s sexually frustrated - but seeing the grateful look in his General’s eyes wipes away any of the irritation he could feel. 

It’s not as if they’re wrong, exactly. He... _cared_ about his General, more than his General’s code would like. But he was careful to never cross the boundary between them, remained strictly professional, albeit friendly. Cody was happy enough to be by his General’s side in battle, and he didn’t need anything else. He _didn’t._

* * *

“That’s enough!” Rex snaps, and Fives shuts up. So do the rest of the _vod’e_ \- a mix of 501st and 212th troopers on day-leave on a planet slightly better than their usual surroundings. It even has an open cantina, that served human-friendly drinks and food, so Cody and Rex had conspired to convince their General’s the _vod’e_ could have a day - not that they needed convincing. But the moment they had hit the ground, the troopers had decided that that the chain of command meant nothing, and had decided that Cody was a good target. 

He couldn’t even blame them, Cody _was_ a pretty good target. He was the one pining after his General, after all. 

“Scram, the lot of you. 501st - if I hear that kinda talk from you again, I’ll have you scrubbing the latrines with your fekking toothbrushes, you hear me? 212th -” Rex pauses, uncertain, before Waxer takes over. 

“Gregor and I will loan you to Captain Rex to use at his discretion, got it?” 

The assorted _vod’e_ nod, a little terrified by the brightness of Rex’s eyes, and scatter, leaving only Rex, Waxer, and Boil.

“Thank you,” Cody says quietly to his third in command, after Rex pats his shoulder and heads to the counter. 

Waxer smiles, but it’s tinged with sadness, and he glances at Boil. “You can be a right bastard at times, sir,” he says, fondness taking away the sting of comment. “But I know what it’s like to love someone. I can imagine what it’s like to love someone when they don’t love you back.”

Cody swallows, eyes stinging suspiciously. 

“And for what it’s worth sir, I’m sorry for the times I’ve stuck the knife in. I hadn’t realised...Nevermind. Boil and I will keep an eye out for the shinies. You and Captain Rex can just enjoy yourselves.”

“You deserved that promotion, _vod,_ ” Cody says as Rex comes back with two fancy caff’s. 

“You’re damn right I did,” he grins, and heads off to where Boil is waiting. 

“At least one of my batchmates turned out all right,” his brother comments, setting the mug in front of Cody. “This is the one time I’m buying, Mr Field Marshall Commander who gets wages.” 

Cody, unlike the rest of his _vod_ , is paid regularly, and almost well. The troopers had finally won the right to a small monthly stipend, thanks to the Alderaanian Senator (and Bolt’s _riduur_ ), but with his promotions - Cody is treated practically like a natural born officer, at least on paper. He takes it as his due to pay for his _vod’e_ drinks when on leave, but Rex is, as ever, a special case. If Rex needed anything, Cody would take care of it, but the luxuries? He wasn’t going to be _nice_ to his little brother now. 

He appreciates the gesture how it was meant, though. “You shouldn’t have done that. They were just messin’ around.” 

“You think I couldn’t see the way your shoulders were up to your ears? It’s only funny when we’re all laughing.” 

“It’s pathetic. _I’m_ pathetic. I had to go and fall for a _jetii._ ” 

Rex snorts. “Stupid, maybe, but not pathetic. I’ve always known you’re _utreekov._ ” 

Cody flips him off, and takes a sip of the ridiculous confection masquerading as caff. It’s sugary, and spicy, and he finds that he likes it, even if it’s an offence against nature. Caff was meant to be black as motor oil and just as appealing, and there was more of it in Cody’s veins than blood at this point. 

“Thanks.” 

“What are brothers for?” 

“Preventing terrible life choices?” 

Rex throws his head back and laughs. “Cody, nobody has stopped you from doing whatever the kriff you wanted since the day you were decanted.” 

Cody pouts, but he knows Rex is right. 

* * *

“Sir,” Cody greets, unclipping the lightsaber from his belt and handing it over. 

“Thank you, Commander.” 

The light of the setting sun suits his General, highlighting the copper and red tones in his hair, complementing his natural fairness. Cody wonders when he went from Kenobi to _his_ General. It happened so slowly, so naturally. He can’t remember the last time he thought of the man as anything other than _his._

“How is your brother?” 

Cody has many - too many - brothers, but he knows who his General is talking about. “Rex is fine. Ready to create a shrine to Commander Tano, but I’m pretty sure that’s not our problem.”

His General’s lips quirk up, a little. “I am glad they get along. I just wish Ahsoka hadn’t been dragged into this.” 

Cody gets it. Tano is practically a shiny - yes, she’s technically older than the entire _vod’e,_ but she’s also trapped in the midst of puberty, and she’s so obviously a _child._ She shouldn’t be in the middle of a warzone. 

“Rex will look after her,” he says. 

“I know he will.” 

A comfortable silence settles around them, as they watch the sun’s slow descent from the heavens. Cody basks in the feeling of being alive, here, next to his General, in the dying light of a ravaged planet, because he’s learning that it’s the little things that make it worth it.

Then his General opens his mouth. 

“Cody,” he says, a touch of uncertainty in his tone, which has Cody’s attention immediately, combined with the sudden familiarity. “I...have become aware, in the past few months, that you’ve developed...certain feelings for me.” 

_Osik._ If the ground could just open up right now, and swallow him, that would be _grand._ “Sir - I would - I’ve never let it interfere -” 

“Peace, Cody. I’m not your General right now. I’m just Obi-Wan, your - friend,” he stumbles over the word. 

_My friend,_ Cody thinks, and he wishes that could be enough. _My friend I am in love with._

“As you know, the Code forbids romantic relationships. And I am not Anakin,” he says, calmly, as if Cody’s heart isn’t scattered on the floor like a smashed antique vase. “I cannot break my vow.” 

He pauses. “Not while we are at war.” 

Cody raises his head, and meets his General’s eyes. His gaze is warm, and steady, and filled with determination. “But you cannot have failed to notice how - fond I am of you. I am, admittedly...already more attached than the Council would like.

“I am a Jedi, and I am supposed to be content with what I have. But. I have found myself...wanting,” he says, slowly. In any other circumstances, Cody would be thrilled to see the famous _Negotiator’s_ silver tongue trip over his clumsy words, but here, he is holding his breath in a mix of terror and anticipation. “My mind tells me my duty is to the Republic. My heart is a different story.”

Cody’s own heart is pounding. His palms are sweaty. “Are you - are you saying -” 

“I am saying that I must fulfil my duty to the Republic, and the Jedi, during this crisis. However,” he pauses again, looking uncertain. “There will come a time when this war is over.” 

“Si- Obi-Wan.” Cody starts, before swallowing, his mouth dry. “ _What_ are you saying?” 

“I - I am saying that if - no, _when_ this war ends,” he licks his lips. His cheeks are flushed, and his eyes are bright, and Cody has never wanted to kiss him more than he does this moment. “I would be open to. Trying. If you would be willing to wait.” 

Cody inhales. Exhales. It feels like the world has slowed around him. _When the war ends._ It’s almost a deadline. Cody is willing to wait lifetimes if he knew that Obi-Wan would be there at the end for him. “You would - you would have to leave the Order.” 

Obi-Wan’s face flickers, and he nods. “I would. But - being a Jedi is more than just, the Order. It’s who you are. I am a Jedi, and I am sworn to the Light, and the Force, regardless of whether I remain part of the Order. And -

“When the war is over, I believe I will have sacrificed enough. I have lost so much. I am not willing to lose you.” 

“If - you know. We don’t - work out. I don’t want you to resent me,” Cody says, hating himself for arguing. He wants to jump on it; wants Obi-Wan to be his and to be Obi-Wan’s and have the knowledge that _when the war is over_ they will be together. But he loves Obi-Wan, and he wants Obi-Wan to be happy, with or without him.

“My dear Cody, I could never resent you,” he says, his hand coming up to cup Cody’s cheek. Cody’s own rises without his permission to cover Obi-Wan’s. “I - have thought this through. I love the Order, they are my family. But I would never forgive myself if I let you go.” 

Cody feels a smile tugging at the edges of his mouth. 

“There is - one thing,” his - _his_ \- General says. “And I would understand if you said no to this because of it. There would be no hard feelings, and you would remain a very dear friend to me regardless.” 

“What - what is it?” he asks, heart in his throat. 

“I can’t have sex with you. Ever.” Obi-Wan says. “It doesn’t - it isn’t a reflection of how I feel. I’m asexual. Sex-repulsed. Believe me, I’ve tried to get around it,” he says with a wry twist of his lips, but his eyes tell Cody there is an unpleasant story there. “But I can’t give you that. I’d be willing to work around you, but - I couldn’t share you with someone else, and I - I understand if this is a dealbreaker - ” 

“I don’t care,” Cody blurts out, mentally discarding a hundred fantasies that mean nothing when he has the man himself in front of him. “I’ve got a right hand and a working brain if I need to. I want you, not your body. I want to hold your hand and watch a thousand sunsets, and I want to know what your greatest fears are, and what you want for the future. I want your face to be the first thing I see in the morning, and the last thing I see at night. You’re willing to throw away your entire life to try something with me. Sex is _nothing_ compared to that.” 

It occurs to Cody that this is the most verbose he has ever been in his life, and that he’s just revealed a lot more than he was intending to - but it doesn’t matter, because Obi-Wan is staring at him, lips parted, eyes brights, with shock and hope warring for dominance on his face. It doesn’t matter, because he means every word. 

“Cody, I -” he starts. Stops. “Cody, may I kiss you?” 

Cody nods, and leans forward. Obi-Wan fits perfectly in his arms. His hand is in Obi-Wan’s hair, and it’s just as soft as he imagined it would be. Their mouths slot together like jigsaw pieces, and the kiss is soft and chaste, and Cody doesn’t feel the need to deepen it because he can sense the emotion behind it, and it’s _perfect._

He’s breathing heavy when he pulls back, eyes wide, and sees Obi-Wan is similarly affected. Cody presses their foreheads together in a _Mando’a mureyca_. 

“When the war is over,” he breathes, like a benediction. 

“When the war is over,” Obi-Wan repeats. 

“Well, we better win it soon, because I have plans,” he says, and basks in the sound of Obi-Wan’s delighted laughter.

* * *

There is a war on. 

His _vod’e_ are dying. So are the _j_ _etii._

His little brother is on the front lines as often as he is not, and Cody doesn’t know where any of his batchmates are stationed. He hears from Fox, mostly, about who has and hasn’t been on leave - and often, the news isn’t good. 

But there is something. A goal. _When the war ends._ Cody is no longer fighting this war because he was commissioned for it. Cody is fighting to win it, because he has a stake in it, and that tiny change makes all the difference. 

_When the war ends,_ he thinks, and dives into the fray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> was that enough yearning for you, gays? enough tenderness? I really was channelling "on purpose, on purpose, I'm going to love you on purpose" and I think you can tell. may I just say, nothing makes you feel more lonely than writing scenes like that. my brain was flipping wildly between mitski's 'I will' and 'nobody' during that scene.
> 
> as per usual, I'm only including translations of words I haven't translated in earlier notes:  
> Riduur - spouse  
> Riduurok - love bond/marriage - I’ve also used it to mean ‘wedding’, as in the act of exchanging vows  
> Mureyca - kiss


	4. the war (year three)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> funky how I'm posting this on 66 comments huh? 
> 
> the comments last chapter absolutely blew me away thank you all so much! I'm glad Obi-Wan's coming out meant so much to so many of you. you all deserve a knight in white beskar. 
> 
> uh. if you would rather not read a cliffhanger, you may or may not want to save this chapter until after I've posted 5. if you're okay with cliffies, well, full steam ahead!

Whenever they’re on the same ship, Rex sneaks into his bunk. 

It’s almost like they’re back on Kamino, except now they’re both a little too big to share a bunk comfortably without some very careful positioning. 

Some nights, Cody wraps his arms around Rex as he shakes and sobs, and lets his little brother cry himself out where there is no one else to see him break. 

“ _Gedet’ye, gedet’ye, k’oyacyi,_ ” Rex mumbles into his chest. “Please don’t leave me.” 

Cody can’t promise anything, not the way he did when he was younger. He’s seen too much now - has made too many promises he’s had to break. He told himself he wouldn’t lie to Rex. 

Other nights, Rex takes his armour off, and massages Cody’s aching back, the pain that never really left since Geonosis. Cody will whisper into his pillow, his fears and his failures, and he doesn’t have to look Rex in the eye as he shares his darkest secrets. Rex will hold him on those nights, and Cody won’t cry, but he’ll sleep through till morning, and it’s almost better. 

Some nights, they don’t do any of that. 

“I can’t believe you’re gonna marry your General,” Rex says. 

“We aren’t getting married,” Cody says with exasperation and no small hint of panic. “We aren’t even together.” 

“Technically,” Rex waves that off as if it’s not the thought Cody circles around every day of his life. “But you will be.” 

“That’s no guarantee we’ll ever exchange _riduurok_ , Rex.” 

“I’ve seen the way Kenobi looks at you, you’ll get married,” he nods, confident in his assessment. 

Cody sighs, then stops. “Wait. How does he look at me?” 

Rex rolls his eyes, and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like _pathetic,_ before he says, “Like you personally hung every star in the sky, _di’kut._ ” 

Cody’s face must be doing something interesting, because Rex looks disgusted, but he can’t mask the happiness in his eyes. Rex likes Obi-Wan, and that was important - because even if it killed him inside, Cody end this - whatever it is, with Obi-Wan, if Rex asked him to. 

“Your face is gross,” Rex tells him, when Cody says so. 

“You’re gross,” Cody counters, and ducks to avoid the pillow thrown at his head. 

The next morning, after breakfast in the commissary, and seeing Rex off, Cody returns to his office to see a mysterious box on his desk. All that’s on the flimsiplast note is _I thought you might enjoy this,_ no signature, but Cody knows his General’s handwriting when he sees it. He opens the box to reveal a piece of _uj’alayi._

Rex was right, he thinks, as he smiles without meaning to. His face really was gross.

* * *

Boil sits alone at the commissary table, and it just feels so viscerally _wrong_ that Cody has to take a few minutes to himself before he heads over. 

Umbara had taken a lot from them all. 

Their trust in the _jetii,_ for one. Rex’s confidence in himself as a Captain. The lives of Cody’s _vod’ike._ If Krell was still alive, Cody would happily be court martialed for tearing out the _demagolka_ ’s throat with his bare hands. 

He grabs an extra tray, and instructs the servers to fill it with Boil’s favourite foods, while grabbing his own. The _vod_ on duty jump to it. It’s not hard to miss Waxer’s absence, and the gossip chain has undoubtedly done its works. Boil just sits there, blankly staring at the table, and Cody _burns._

Trays in hand, Cody makes his way over to the table that everyone is giving a wide berth to, and slams Boil’s in front of him. “Eat,” he says, dropping down beside his _vod._

“Not hungry,” Boil says, pushing the tray away. Cody points his fork threateningly at him. 

“Eat, Boil. I’m not going to be the one to tell Waxer you starved under my watch.” 

The fact of the matter is - Cody has no idea whether he will ever tell Waxer anything, ever again. His third-in-command is in the healer’s ward in the Coruscant Temple, and no one knows if he will survive the week, much less wake up ever again. The traumatic brain injury alone - 

But Boil already know those odds, so Cody doesn’t say any of that, and glares at him until his brother picks up his fork and picks at his food. 

It had been Cody’s General who had pushed for Waxer to be transferred to the healing halls, rather than any of the field hospitals set up for clones, or returning to Kamino. His General had pulled over a dozen personal favours, and owed a dozen more - but he managed. Waxer was being treated by the head healer herself. 

_“Vokara likes the challenge,”_ Obi-Wan had informed him. _“And if anyone can help him, it’s Healer Che.”_

Cody wasn’t sure what he would do, if Waxer died. He would lose two of his best troopers - two of his closest friends - in one fell swoop, because he didn’t doubt that Boil would eat his own blaster if his _riduur_ died, and Cody couldn’t blame him. The older Cody got, the more he respected Fox. If something was to happen to Obi-Wan - 

“Even if he wakes up, he won’t be able to be a soldier,” Boil says, his voice rough. His eyes are red. “I heard them talking. He might not even be able to take care of himself.” 

“Then we best win this kriffing war soon, so that you have the time to take care of him,” Cody says. 

Boil exhales. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.” 

“Waxer is strong,” he says, knocking his shoulder into Boil’s. “He won’t leave you without a fight.” 

Boil nods, and leans into him. Cody only hopes he’s not lying. _K’oyacyi, Waxer._

* * *

“Thank you, Commander,” his General says as Cody hands his lightsaber back. 

“Please stop losing it, sir,” Cody tells him blandly. 

“But I know exactly where it is,” he grins, bright and happy in a way he so rarely is nowadays. He leans in closer, voice low, as if sharing a secret. “In the safest hands in the galaxy.” 

Obi-Wan dances away to draw some clankers away from the shinies on the field, and Cody is glad for his helmet. Especially when he realises Skywalker is watching him. 

“Sir?” Cody asks, a little unnerved by the intenseness of Skywalker’s eyes. 

“Obi-Wan has always told me that my lightsaber is my life,” Skywalker says. “That I was to protect it with _my_ life.” 

Cody has no idea how to respond, but Skywalker isn’t expecting one. 

“He trusts you with his lightsaber.” 

“Yes.” 

Skywalker just stares at him a little longer. And then he smiles, a quick, sharp thing. There’s something dark in his eyes, an emotion Cody doesn’t recognise. “I hope you know how lucky you are,” he says, a little bitterly, and rejoins the fray. 

Cody is follows, unsettled and humbled. He already knew Obi-Wan trusted him, it’s obvious, but even now, the breadth of that trust still takes his breath away. He supposes it’s only fair though, with all the things he trusts his General with. 

It seemed almost like Skywalker was trusting him with his Master too. For once, Cody desperately hopes he doesn’t let him down.

* * *

“A word, little brother?” Bolt isn’t really asking as she drags him away from where their General’s are bent over the map, assessing the terrain for tomorrow's battle. 

Cody frowns at her. “We’re batchmates, Bolt. We’re the exact same age,” he points out as they come to a stop in a slightly less busy corner. 

She waves this away like it’s inconsequential. “I thought I was punching above my weight with Aliyyah, you know. A clone going for a woman of standing. But you always have to one up me.” 

“How, exactly, am I ‘one-upping’ you?” 

She gives him a _look._ “A General, _Kote_?”

Cody freezes, and shoots a desperate glance at Obi-Wan. He hasn’t even noticed Cody’s absence, stroking his beard as he confers with General Muln. General Muln, Cody knows, was his General’s créchemate - the _jetii_ equivalent of a batchmate. From the way Muln carefully doesn’t look his way, he thinks his sister’s General is in on this. He wonders if Obi-Wan will experience a similar situation later. 

“Frankly, I’m almost proud that my batchmate managed to bag a _jetii,_ ” Bolt says into the panicked silence, her tone almost casual, if it wasn’t for the sharp glint in her eye. “A General. A _superior_.” 

Cody relaxes instantly, knowing exactly what she’s getting at, and shakes his head. “It’s not like that, B. I promise.” 

“You sure? Just because we’re clones doesn’t mean we have to let them _do_ shit to us-” 

“ _Ni kar’taylir darasuum kaysh,_ ” he interrupts. Her eyebrows raise a little, which is the closest Bolt ever gets to gobsmacked, and then she smiles, a short, sharp thing. 

“Well, damn,” she says. “Wolffe and Fox were right. Emotions and everything. You’re almost a real boy now.” 

“Shut up,” Cody grumbles. Another look at the General’s, and he can see Obi-Wan paling. Not later then. Cody should go save him. 

Bolt puts a hand on his arm, drawing him back. “You’re being careful with that big heart of yours, _Kote_ ? He is a _jetii._ ” 

Cody nods, confident in this. “It’s - not yet. We’re waiting, until the war is over. Then - _kaysh sirbur ba’slanar haar Jetiise._ ”

She blinks, and - shockingly - smiles at him. “I’m happy for you, _vod’ika._ ”

“Still the same age, Bolt,” he grumbles, but he’s glad she knows. Another glance at the General’s shows Obi-Wan blushing, and Muln grinning, slinging an arm over Cody’s General’s shoulders. Bolt joins him

“If he hurts you, I’ll make it look like an accident,” his sister promises, her voice cool and her face wiped of all emotion once again, and Cody rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. 

* * *

“I don’t like this,” Cody says. Predictably, Rex and his General ignore him. 

He knows neither of them like the plan either. They don’t like the idea of Tano being in the line of fire - of her being offered up on a silver kriffing platter to _slavers_. 

Cody doesn’t like that they’ll be separated. 

He sighs. “I just wanted you to know that I disagree with every aspect of this plan.” 

“Your objection is noted, Commander,” his General tells him. 

Rex pats him on the shoulder as he walks past. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on your _jetii._ ” 

_This is all going to go tits up,_ Cody thinks, and he’s right. 

* * *

They lose both his brother and Obi-Wan for four terrible days. For four days, Cody had no idea if the people he loves most in the galaxy are even alive. His heart is gripped in a vice that tightened the longer they go without contact. The one consolation he has is that they were together - or at least, they had been, when they were taken. His _vod_ and his _cyare_ were brilliant on their own. They would take care of one another.

He’s right, and they do. But the people who come out of Zyggeria are not the same men who went in. 

His General spends a full day in a bacta tank - something Rex refuses point blank. His _vod’ika_ also refuses to let Obi-Wan out of his sight, panicking if the man isn’t in his eyeline, to the point Kix has to sedate him for his own good. Their bodies are littered with electric burns and whip marks, bruises and broken bones. Cody waits outside medical, with a pacing Skywalker, and a trembling Tano. 

“They’ll be okay,” Cody tells her in an undertone. She glances at him, uncertain, and something in Cody aches, because she looks so young. “They’re tough. They’ll be alright.” 

“I’ve never heard Rex scream like that.” 

Neither has Cody, and Cody once broke Rex’s arm on the sparring mats when he was six. The inhuman noise Rex made as they were separated - the terror on Obi-Wan’s face - these are things that will haunt Cody. 

“They’ll be alright,” he repeats useless. Skywalker just keeps pacing. 

That night, after Skywalker vanishes - probably to call his Senator - Cody takes control and sends Tano to bed, promising to wake her up if there’s news. She is reluctant, but eventually allows Echo to lead her away, while Fives takes up the sentry. 

“Physically speaking, there’s nothing else I can do,” Kix tells him, his face grim. “Psychologically - I would recommend enforced leave, but -” 

“The High Generals would never allow it.” Cody finishes for him. 

“Yeah.” 

“What about the whole -” he gestures vaguely, hoping Kix understands. 

“The attachment?” Cody nods. “They’ve been through trauma. They had only one another to rely on. It’s not an uncommon reaction.” 

“What can I do?” 

Kix shrugs. “Support them. I do think they’ll be a little more functional when they wake up - Captain Rex was clearly in shock, and I’m not entirely sure the General was aware of his surroundings. I can tell you a little more in the morning.” 

Cody nods, then pats Kix on the shoulder as the medic yawns. “Get some sleep, _vod._ I’ll keep an eye on them.” 

With Kix gone, Cody takes the seat between the two beds. Rex always looks so much younger when he’s asleep, but it’s worse, somehow, today. Cody smoothes a hand over the fuzz on his baby brothers head, and draws his blankets tighter around his shoulders, the way Rex likes them. 

When he turns to Obi-Wan, he’s surprised to see his eyes open - barely. 

“It’s alright, _cyare,_ ” Cody whispers, aware of the other patients in the medbay. “You’re safe. Go back to sleep.” 

Obi-Wan stares for a moment longer, before letting his eyes slide shut, and Cody’s breath catches at the implicit act of trust, still somehow surprising after all this time. He takes Obi-Wan’s hand - the knuckles still skinned and bruised - and presses a kiss to his palm, before sliding it under the blanket. 

It isn’t good. But Cody knows it could have ended far worse.

* * *

“Waxer said my name today,” Boil says, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “I was just talking to him, like Healer Che told me to - he said my name. First word he’s spoken since he woke up.” 

Cody grins. “That’s amazing, _vod,_ ” he says, pulling Boil into a hug. He’d pulled a lot of strings to let Boil have a weekly comm with Waxer, but he knew it would help Boil. Apparently, it was helping Waxer too. 

Across the room, Cody meets his General’s eyes. They’re still shadowed, but they’re happiness in them is unmistakable.

Good news is few and far between, these days, but every so often, Cody gets reminded there is hope. 

* * *

Cody sits beside his General on the cliff side, careful to make sure that he’s close enough to grab Obi-Wan should the other take a tumble. It’s unlikely, he knows - but still. He worries. 

“I’m sorry about Commander Tano,” Cody says. “I know-” 

He knows a lot of things, now. He knows that it was his General who had wanted a Padawan, not Skywalker. He knows that his General had spoken to the Council about keeping Tano in the Temple, despite her age, so he could take her on when the war was over. He knows that even when that had been overruled, his General had thought that he would still be her Master. 

He has listened to a lot of Obi-Wan’s hushed confessions, when they are working together, late into the _Negotiator_ ’s night cycle. 

_“Part of the reason I am ready to leave is that there is nothing waiting for me,_ ” he’d said, a sad twist to his lips. _“I know that Anakin will leave, once he has finished training Ahsoka, to be with Padmé. The Force hasn’t pushed me towards any of the Initiates since Ahsoka._

 _“Above all, I follow the Force,_ " he whispered, eyes locked on Cody’s. _“And the Force wants it’s children to be happy.”_

“She is making her own choices,” Obi-Wan replies. “I could not be more proud of her.” 

Cody wants to wrap his arms around him, to offer him the same comfort he would offer to his _vod’e_ , but he can’t. Not yet. _When the war is over,_ he reminds himself. 

“Rex will look after her,” he says instead. 

Obi-Wan looks at him, his gaze steady, and his voice sincere. “And she will look out for him. That is exactly why I am not worried.” 

It’s not true. Rex’s absence has left a hollow ache in Cody’s chest, and he even misses Tano’s bright presence. He’s itching to follow them, to send them backup, to drag them back where they belong. He knows that Obi-Wan feels the same. 

But Obi-Wan is right. Rex and Tano would look out for each other, and Cody knew he would see them again. Perhaps, when the war was over, they - all of them, Cody, his General, Rex, Tano, even Skywalker - would be together once more. 

Obi-Wan’s hand slips into his own, and squeezes. _When the war is over,_ he thinks.

* * *

The Seppies attack the Chancellor. Dooku is killed, by Skywalker no less, and the 212th are stationed on Coruscant. Peace is so close, Cody can almost taste it. 

He heads to the Temple, hoping to see Waxer, but when he arrives in the Healing Halls, Healer Che smiles and points him towards the créche. Cody gets lost twice trying to find it, before a Padawan-Commander notices and takes pity on him. He can hear children shrieking with laughter as he gets closer, and he smiles, a small thing that grows wider when he spots his wayward _vod’e._

Waxer is in a hoverchair, Boil seated on a regular chair next to him. They’re surrounded by younglings, and two of them have clambered up onto their respective laps. The one seated on Waxer seems to be reading to the group - every so often Boil leans over to help the little zeltron pronounce the words. 

Cody can just see his _vod_ doing this, in the future. In peacetime. The _jetii_ had already offered _vod’e_ jobs in the Temple and the corps, and Cody can see Boil and Waxer, settling down here in the créche with the next generation of _jetii,_ raising them. 

It’s a nice image. Something worth fighting for, he thinks, as Waxer spots him. His _vod_ smiles, highlighting the long surgical scar across the left side of his skull, but he’s healing, and it’s all Cody can do to smile back.

* * *

“Grievous is on Utapau,” his General says, and Cody knows this is it. 

They kit up, and their promise cycles through his head on repeat. Cody nods at his _vod’e_ as they board the transport, and he can see the same frantic glint in the eyes of those holding their helmets as he’s sure is in his own. They’re so _close._

General Kenobi joins them minutes later. 

“You know what our objective is, you don’t need me to tell you that,” he tells them solemnly. “So there isn’t much left to say.” Then, a slightly manic grin stretches across his face. “Except this: _Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur_!” 

“ _Oya!_ ” Cody shouts, echoed by his _vod’e._

* * *

The war is almost over, he knows. 

Grievous is dead. The troopers give him knowing looks, glancing between their commanding officers, but Cody ignores them with practiced ease as he rejoins his General. He hands the _jetii_ his lightsaber back, and their eyes meet. Cody thinks, for a moment, about kissing him - but there’s still work to do. _Just a little longer,_ he thinks.

The first thing that Cody will do, the moment peace is truly declared, is call Rex. Then, he will call whoever is left of his batchmates. Then he’ll kiss Obi-Wan.

Then they can go home - wherever that might be. Not Kamino, not Coruscant. Maybe _Manda’yaim_ , if the siege succeeds. Maybe Naboo - Rex would want to be near his General, and so would Cody's own. Just somewhere green. Obi-Wan would like that, he thinks, and Cody - Cody thinks his home is wherever his family is. Wherever Rex and Obi-Wan want to go, Cody will follow them. 

His battle-comm beeps, a priority channel, and Cody answers it. 

“Commander Cody, execute Order 66!” 

* * *

CC-2224's face is wet, under his helmet. He frowns as the dampness trickles down his cheek. 

There are two messages waiting for him on his personal comm. One is a recording, something dated two months back. He should have deleted it when he received it, but he had liked the smile on the [traitors] face, the way he had said his name- 

CC-2224 shakes the thought away as he swipes past the recording. He still doesn't delete it. 

The next is recent, mere minutes ago. 

"Codes, Cody, _ori’vod_ \- the troopers, they’re shooting at Ahsoka! They’re going after _jetii_! Get Kenobi and yourself out of there!" 

CC-2224 frowns. There's a name, dancing at the edge of his consciousness. This trooper - this anomaly, with bright blonde hair and frantic eyes - he knows him. He’s obviously a clone. But he's talking about [traitors], so he must be a traitor himself. Defective. He'll track him down, and take him out. For the Empire.

Trapped in his own head, Cody screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....sorry? 
> 
> if it makes you feel better, back when this was just a two parter, this was my end point!...but I really don't wanna upset you guys like that, so stay tuned for the final chapter! (psst. angst hoes, if you wanna read the super tragic ending I wrote to make my wifey cry, its [here](https://someawkwardprose.tumblr.com/post/190536171399/an-alternate-unhappy-ending-to-my-fic-diogenes). MCD warning. sorry) 
> 
> For translations, y'all know the drill:  
> Di’kut - idiot  
> Uj’alayi - uj cake: dense, very sweet flat cake made of ground nuts, syrup, pureed dried fruit and spice. give me three weeks of experimentation and imma work out a viable recipe for this.  
> Demagolka - someone who commits atrocties, a real-life monster, a war criminal - from the notorious Mandalorian scientist of the Old Republic, Demagol, known for his experiments on children, and a figure of hate and dread in the Mando psyche  
> Cyare - beloved. I’m using it here to kinda mean boyfriend rather than as a pet name or whatever . Cody babes that’s not much better. incidentally, cyar’ika, unlike popular fandom interpretation, isn’t like, ‘little loved one’ or infantalising or whatever, it’s just sweetheart, despite its roots. language is pretty neat!  
> Ni kar’taylir darasuum kaysh - I love [him] - absolutely literal translation, except ‘him’ is literally them.  
> Kaysh sirbur ba’slanar haar Jetiise. - they (he) say(s) [he’ll] leave the Jedi (Plural) (grammar is fake) ‘haar’ is a rare and emphatic form, so this is *The* Jedi aka the Order rather than ‘te’  
> Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur - Today is a good day for someone else to die  
> Oya - Many meanings: literally *Let's hunt!* and also *Stay alive!*, but also *Hoorah!*, *Go you!*, *Cheers!* Always positive and triumphant.


	5. a rebellion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhyeahhhh. okay. the chapter count went up again! this chapter got. uh. long. so it's not quite a happy ending, yet! I'm sorry! but this is also totally your faults this was supposed to end at 2. 
> 
> also. there's a series attached to this now, did ya notice? it's not that diogenes is getting a sequel, per se; it's just that my first draft of this chapter got extremely long (as has now become typical), and quite dark and somehow more angsty. so I saved it and I'm making it a spinoff - a what if? - of this chapter, that you can choose to read if you want, but isn't required!! it will have a happy ending too, but considering the amount of warnings it requires, I really didn't want to force anyone through it to get *this* happy ending, since you were already invested. but if you do want to read that "rebellion" chapter, subscribe to the series! (there may or may not be a set of snippets placed in this universe as a separate fic too. mayyybe)
> 
> brief warnings for: implied/referenced suicide (very brief), minor character death, identity/memory/control issues associated with the chips, and all that jazz.

CC-2224 and the 212th battalion is recalled to Coruscant, requested by the Emperor himself. 

_You have been most loyal,_ he tells them. _That loyalty is to be rewarded._ The Coruscant Guard remained for all of Coruscant, but the 212th battalion was retained as the Emperor’s private guard.

CC-2224 did not feel rewarded. 

After his first greeting, the Emperor did not acknowledge them as individuals. The only member of the battalion the Emperor ever spoke to directly was CC-2224, and his tone was always dismissive and dispassionate. As if CC-2224 was a droid - or a computer AI. 

CC-2224 was a trooper. He was not an individual, not really. He was a unit in the Imperial Army, as were the troopers who served under him. They were treated as their designations. More than that, CC-2224 shouldn’t have _opinions_ on said treatment. He was simply a soldier, and _good soldiers follow orders._

Still. It was an effort not to clench his jaw when he noticed officers treating _his_ troopers like they were just tools, like they were disposable, even though CC-2224’s training told him they were. 

CC-2224 never complained though. CC-2224 was a _good soldier,_ and he would always _follow orders._

* * *

The trail for the traitorous blond haired clone was going cold. 

CC-2224 should inform his superior of his search. He shouldn’t have a personal communicator in the first place, only his battle-com, and the fact he had saved two messages from traitors would surely be suspicious. He should hand it over the evidence, and submit himself to their inquiries. The defective clone would surely be found quicker. 

However…

CC-2224 could not explain it, if asked. It had to be a sign of his own defectiveness. But it had to be CC-2224 who found the traitor. It couldn’t be anyone else. That clone was _his,_ just like this was his hunt, and the 212th was his battalion. 

CC-2224 could find no sign of the traitor; and if he couldn’t, he knew that no-one else would. He was very careful not to feel relieved. 

* * *

CC-2224 woke up, gasping the name of the [traitor]. 

It was not, unfortunately, the first time he had done this. 

The [traitor] was dead. When CC-2224 closes his eyes, he is back on Utapau, standing on the ridge, staring at his [traitor], and turning to his troopers. His mouth forms the words without his permission. _Blast him._

His [traitor] falls. When CC-2224 looks over the edge, he can’t see any sign of him - but the drop was so far, and led to running water. No-one could have survived that fall, not even his [traitor]. The water must have carried him away. 

His eyes sting. 

He reaches for the contraband comm, and opens up the first, older message. His [traitors] face stares back at him, a small, pleased smile playing around his lips, half-hidden by the hand stroking his beard. _“My dear Commander,”_ it begins. _“Anakin and I have received word from the Council…”_

CC-2224 closes his eyes, and lets the voice of a dead man lull him back to sleep. 

* * *

“My Master,” the man clad in black says, kneeling at the Emperor’s feet. At least, CC-2224 assumes that there is a man under all of that machinery - the harsh mechanical breathing that echoes through the throne room belies that there is, actually, a living being under all of the electronics. 

“Apprentice. It is good to see you on your feet. Rise, Lord Vader, and walk with me,” the Emperor says, and CC-2224 takes his customary spot six feet behind him. Lord Vader casts him what CC-2224 assumes is a curious look, but with his face covered, CC-2224 cannot be sure. He ignores it. The man will begin to treat him like a furnishing, like most of the Imperial Officers do, soon enough. 

“Was there something amiss with your previous guards, Master?” Vader asks, after the silence has stretched long enough for the pair to leave the throne room and make it into the Imperial Gardens. 

“CC-1010 was perfectly adequate,” the Emperor replies, a thread of self-satisfaction in his voice. “But I brought the 212th here for you, my apprentice.” 

“Master?” 

“Did you not complain about Kenobi’s attachment to his Commander? That he trusted a _clone_ over yourself?” 

At the name, CC-2224 feels a spike of pain in his head, and he grits his teeth against it. The two men turn to him simultaneously, as if they _know-_

“What better punishment, then, that your traitorous’ ex-master’s loyal Commander betrayed him, and became _my_ loyal Commander? That his men were now my men?”

It is silent for a moment, before Vader responds. “It would destroy him, when he learned of it.” 

“Exactly. And we both know certain members of the Senate hold...alternate loyalties. The news will find him somehow, I am certain.” 

There is another pause from Vader. “Thank you, Master. You are...most generous.” 

CC-2224’s headache decreases as the conversation switches, but his confusion mounts. He carefully commits the name to memory, and the implications of the conversation. 

They spoke as if the [traitor] was still alive. 

* * *

CC-2224 hears, in snippets, from the Coruscant Guard, that the Imperial Palace had been more of a graveyard, before the 212th had returned to Coruscant. 

“But there were no younglings,” CC-1010 says, grimacing. “When we cleared the bodies.”

CC-2224 doesn’t know why this is important - the general consensus in the newly-renamed _Stormtroopers_ \- but every trooper agrees that this information is _vital._ The [traitors] had younglings, but the few 501st CC-2224 sees (because the 501st are _Vader’s Fist,_ and their original numbers are dropping like flies) confirm that the night they stormed the Temple Palace, there had been no younglings. 

It means the [traitor] younglings most likely escaped, which CC-2224 shouldn’t celebrate - but none of the Stormtrooper ranks appear to be particularly concerned about the missing young ones, even if many of the Imperial Officers are. 

The younglings survived. 

* * *

It’s on one of CC-2224’s patrols around the Rotunda - one of the few times he is on duty without being within the Emperor’s eyesight - that he passes by the Alderaanian Senator coming out of his office. The man glances at him warily as he walks by, before turning to his aide, a young humanoid woman, who looks pale and drawn. CC-2224 is almost out of earshot when he hears “Aliyyah, would you -” 

He stops. He knows that name. _Why_ does he know that name? Snippets of a conversation come back to him - _“...riduur….aide to the Senator of Alderaan...the most wonderful woman in the whole Galaxy…”_

“Bolt,” he remembers aloud. 

“What did you say?” the woman demands. The Senator and his aide must have been walking in the same direction as CC-2224, because they’ve drawn closer to him in the time he has stopped. “How do you know that name?” 

CC-2224 shakes his head, stumbling backwards as she takes a step forward, reaching for him. Her voice is hard as she demands: “Answer me, trooper!” 

The Senator places a hand on her arm. “Peace, Aliyyah. Give the man a moment,” he says, and turns to CC-2224. “You must be a member of the 212th, yes? The Emperor’s Guard. And that pauldron - it means you’re the Commander?” 

CC-2224 nods. He knows that under his helmet, he must look like a startled tooka, staring at the headlights of an approaching speeder, but he can’t help his. His head is _pounding._

“Can you tell me what your name is, Commander? Do you remember?” Senator Organa asks, kindly. 

CC-2224 shakes his head, and flees. 

* * *

He takes to listening to both of the saved messages, whenever he can. 

The first one is nice. His [traitor] seems almost happy, and CC-2224 likes that, though he couldn’t tell anyone why. The second one isn’t - the frantic terror in the defective clone’s eyes, the tremble in his voice - but it’s all he has of him. He can’t access any other memory. 

And he knows he has memories. He knows he has memories, because sometimes they creep up on him and catch him unawares; but they feel distant, fuzzy, as if they belonged to someone else.

Even though he doesn’t remember, he was built to learn, to adapt. He knows these men, these _traitors_ \- they were important to him. Are important to him, because the Emperor had said that Ken-[ _traitor_ ] _-_ obi was still alive, and CC-2224 knows somewhere, deep in his soul, that light-hair is too.

He can’t think otherwise, because, because- 

His breath is coming in sharp, short bursts, little hitching noises escaping him. They can’t be dead, they just _can’t-_

He is actively disobeying orders, right now, but CC-2224 doesn’t care. He won’t let the Empire hurt them.

* * *

The next time he’s on duty in the Imperial Palace, he makes his way to the infirmary. _The_ _Healing Halls_ , his unreliable memories tell him. The Imperial Palace was _the Temple,_ and this was the _Healing Halls._

The few surviving members of Vader’s fist he could track down had told him - here was empty too. The medical berths had been evacuated prior to their entry. CC-2224 could tell that they hadn’t known what to think about that, either. 

In fact, the only [traitors] that had been in the Temple _Palace_ that night, had been those old enough, well enough to fight. Many had been technicians, with only basic training, but from what CC-2224 had put together, they had stood firm to defend their home. _They were brave,_ his fellow clones had said, eyes haunted. _Reckon they were trying to buy the escapers time._

CC-2224 had a growing suspicion that he wasn’t the only one having trouble trying to be a good soldier. 

Rows upon rows of empty medical beds, dry bacta tubes, and missing equipment stood testament to the amount of time they’d had to prepare. Something - or _someone_ , had warned them. 

There’s another trooper in the infirmary, one of his. He recognises the armour as belonging to CC-7437, his sergeant, and newest third-in-command. There had been someone before him, CC-2224 knows, and he grabs at the memory, but it slips through his fingers like smoke. Yet, somehow, he knows, this berth was important to both ‘37 and that other soldier. 

“Sir,” ‘37 greets warily. He knows he’s not meant to be down here. But then again, neither is CC-2224. 

“At ease,” he says, and joins the man on his vigil. “You feel it too?” 

There’s a pause, as ‘37 weighs up his options, before he gives a single, sharp nod. 

“...I woke up this morning with a name on my lips. _Waxer._ I don’t know who he is, sir, but I...” 

_Waxer._ Of course it’s Waxer, how could CC-2224 ever forget, the trooper who was both one of the biggest pains in his ass, and one of his closest friends. _Waxer,_ who pulled a lot of shit to make his partner laugh -

“You love him,” CC-2224 finishes for him. “Don’t you, Boil?” 

‘37, no, _Boil,_ Boil’s head shoots up, and even though his helmet hides his face, CC-2224 knows he is staring at him, eyes wide and panicked. CC-2224 grits his teeth and continues through the pain in his head, remembering: “The only things you can cook are things that can be boiled, and if it can’t be, you’ll damn well try anyway. Waxer called you Boil, and you told me once - that - that, _kriff,_ ” he says, clenching his fists as the ache sharpens, pushes back, screams at him to stop - “you said that was the first time you ever wanted to kiss him.” 

Boil is shaking, CC-2224 can see the way his armour trembles, and he _hurts,_ but he also feels triumphant, because he _knows_ this trooper, knows him like he knew his batchmates, because he was his _friend,_ his _brother,_ and against orders or not, CC-2224 refused to forget him. 

“Your name is Boil, and you loved Waxer,” he repeats. “And Waxer was here, when everything was changing.”

“...my name…” Boil whispers, stops. “He was here. He was hurt and he was here, and they were taking care of him.” 

“Yes,” he grits out. 

“Do you think -” 

“I don’t know how,” CC-2224 admits, straining for the words. “But we know they got out. And Waxer was _here._ I don’t - I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

“Are we on the wrong side, sir?” The pain doubles, and CC-2224 groans, falling to his knees. Boil catches him, hands fluttering uselessly before he takes CC-2224’s helmet off. “Kriff, sir, you're bleeding!”

“Good thing...we’re in medical, then,” CC-2224 snarks, lifting his hand to feel the blood congealing under his nose. But he thinks about Boil’s question, and one thing becomes startlingly clear. _We are._

* * *

“Hello again, Commander,” the Senator of Alderaan greets him, as if they are old friends. CC-2224 does not react. He stares forward at the rest of the delegation of Senators who had approached the Emperor with prospective legislation for the relief of planets still suffering from the after effects of the War. CC-2224 noted that the small group did not appear hopeful. 

“I have a friend, who would like to speak to you, when you are off duty,” he continues, as if CC-2224 is not doing his best to ignore his presence. “She’ll understand if you don’t feel safe to come, but she will be staying with my staff, in my apartment, for the next few nights. I do hope you can find the time.” 

Organa wanders off then, to join the delegation the Emperor has waved forward, but on the other side of the room, CC-2224 can feel Lord Vader’s eyes on him. No doubt this interaction would be passed on to the Emperor. 

It’s too dangerous to find out what the Senator wants. CC-2224 can’t risk it. 

* * *

He risks it. He has to. If he can see Bolt - 

It isn’t hard to sneak away. No one expects the clones to have the inclination, never mind the ability. While CC-2224 is a little more recognisable than most of the troopers, owing to his placement as the Emperor’s personal guard, without the Force, armoured troops are impossible to tell apart. He gives Boil his armour, and changes into the civvies he’d found stored away in the barracks, and sneaks away when the natborn officer in charge of overseeing the barracks heads for a cigarra. 

It isn’t even hard to find Organa’s apartment, since he was a Senator - and Organa was under surveillance as a “rebellion sympathiser”. That poses even less of an obstacle than sneaking out did, as the guards on watch aren’t Stormtroopers. They’re natborns, distracted by a game of sabaac. CC-2224 rolls his eyes. This is why the Emperor wanted clones. They were well-trained, efficient, and _good at their jobs._ CC-2224 wanted to teach these rookies a lesson in _proper_ surveillance. 

“Welcome, Commander. I’d hoped you would come,” Organa answers the door himself. He has no armour on, no weapon - if CC-2224 had been an assassin, he could have shot the man and walked away. However, CC-2224 is neither an assassin, nor part of Organa’s security team, so he simply nods back, warily, and accepts the invite inside. The apartment appears to be empty, but before CC-2224 has a chance to feel suspicious, Organa says: “My guest won’t be returning for another few minutes - feel free to take a seat. I’m making kebroot stew, if you’d like some?” 

It occurs to CC-2224 that perhaps Organa isn’t stupid. The tea towel over his shoulder, the carefully dressed down nature of his attire - it’s all an attempt to relax CC-2224. To put him at ease. He shakes his head in the negative. In his experience, he knew not to trust politicians, no matter how kind-natured they present themselves. After all, the Chancellor had called him by his name as he had ordered - 

The thought slid away from his reach. 

His hands clenched. He hated this whole damn situation. 

To distract himself, he began to investigate the Senator’s apartment. Photographs lined the walls - a mix of personal and professional, he thought, as he examined a photo of a group of politicians, some whom he recognised: Organa, of course; Representative Binks, who was reported to have called the Emperor a traitor to his face before his disappearance; Senator Chuchi, looking far younger and happier than she did nowadays; the Chandrila Senator who was being shadowed by Vader occasionally; and a short, richly dressed woman, with a polite smile on her lips and a fire in her eyes.

Her name eluded him, and frustrated, he turned to another - this one more personal. A family photograph, he presumed, not that he would know. Organa and a beautiful woman are smiling down at an infant, gumming on its own fingers.

“My wife, Breha, and our daughter. Leia,” Organa says from over CC-2224’s shoulder. “She’s nine months old.” 

“She doesn’t look like you at all,” CC-2224 says, and winces. He wasn’t that knowledgeable about natborn procreation - he was fairly sure it had to involve a female of a species, which CC-2224 was firmly _not_ interested in - but even he knew that was rude. 

Organa doesn’t seem to think so. He laughs, but his eyes are sad. “No, she’s adopted. She takes after her mother, though. Both of them.”

The door chimed then, and CC-2224 straightens up, fighting the urge to get into a defensive position. Organa was most likely part of the Resistance, after all, and CC-2224 had already decided he wasn’t on the side of the Empire. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to be a rebel or not - but the distinction wouldn’t matter to Imperials. 

Organa comes back in, and behind him the aide, Aliyyah who’s holding hands with Bolt, thank the _Force,_ but then someone comes in behind Bolt, and CC-2224 tenses again, only for the familiar face to register. 

There’s a brand new scar on his left temple, and the start of stubble on his normally clean shaven face, but he would recognise his brother anywhere. His breath catches, as the other man breaks into a desperately relieved smile.

“ _Kote,_ ” he breathes, and suddenly, everything clicks into place. 

“Rex,” Cody says, and throws himself at his baby brother. “ _Rex.”_

“I’ve got you,” Rex promises into his ear, wrapping his arms around Cody. “I’ve got you, _ori’vod._ ” 

For the first time in years, Cody unashamedly bursts into tears. 

* * *

There’s a chip in his head. 

There’s a chip in his head, and in the rest of the _vod’e_ , and it made them turn on their _jetii._ It made them hurt the Generals, made them _kill_ them. A familiar rage bubbles up in the pit of Cody’s stomach, and he squeezes Rex’s hand tight enough to hurt, but his brother doesn’t let go, only squeezes back. 

“We will take it out, as soon as we can get you off Coruscant,” Aliyaah promises gently. “But it must have degraded a lot, for you to even be here. You must have fought it very hard.” 

Bolt has a hand on his shoulder as they tell him the fates of his _vod’e_ they know about. Bly, shot with his own blaster when he was aware enough to realise what he had done; Thire, killed in a skirmish between the Imperials and rebels; his Captain, Gregor, thankfully with Wolffe, both free of the chips and happily assisting the Resistance. Waxer. 

“He’s alive,” Rex reassures him. “I know that much. But we don’t have much contact with that group. Ahsoka will be able to explain it better.” 

“And -” 

“Your boy is too,” Rex smiles. “As soon as we get that chip out of you, you’ll see them both, I promise.” 

“I can’t leave, the 212th -” 

Organa shakes his head. “The Emperor will know you’ve broken through the conditioning. We don’t have time to train you how to shield like I do, and he’ll notice your disappearance. There are plans in place to help the other troopers, but you need to focus on yourself right now, Commander.” 

Cody hesitates, but he knows Organa is right. Still - “I won’t leave Boil alone. He’s only just started to remember things.” 

At this, the feeling in the room lightens considerably, and Organa smiles. “Of course. Do you think you can get him out before dawn?” 

He nods. “I might need some help distracting the officer on watch, though.” 

“They have guards on you?” Rex asks incredulously.

“To make sure that we are using our free time appropriately,” Cody answers. 

Rex mutters something perilously close to _worse than the kriffing longnecks_ , before he looks at Cody again, something approximating a smile on his face. “Reckon you could team up with me one last time, old man?” 

Cody grins back helplessly. “Anytime, _vod’ika._ ” 

* * *

The mission to liberate Boil goes smoothly. Almost. 

Rex knocks out the officer while Cody slips past, finding Boil in Cody’s own bed. He doesn’t explain much - just that they’re getting out, but he needs to collect his kit fast. Boil doesn’t ask any questions, simply shedding Cody’s armour and grabbing his own, before the two of them calmly walk to the door. If they look suspicious, the rest of the battalion will notice. If they look like they belong, well. Confidence, Cody has learned, is enough to pull off the craziest of stunts. And, despite everything, this definitely didn’t hit the top 20 of that category. 

It’s as they’re avoiding the patrols in the tunnels under the Imperial Palace - _no, the Temple,_ he reminds himself, _it was the Temple -_ they run into trouble. 

Trouble being Vader. 

The mecha-monster-man breathes heavily, staring at them from the other end of the corridor.

“Rex?” Vader asks, sounding choked, which Cody appreciates as quite a feat for someone using an electronic respirator. 

He glances at his brother, who looks as perplexed as him, as the suits gaze switches to Cody himself, not even acknowledging Boil. Then Vader seems to make a decision, taking one last, almost _longing_ look at Rex, before he deliberately turned his back on the three of them, and stalked away in the other direction. 

Cody lets out the breath he was holding, and continued down the corridor, knowing his brother’s would follow. 

* * *

“It’s alright Cody, I won’t leave,” Rex promises, holding his hand as the anesthetic kicks in, and Cody begins to fade from consciousness. “I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

“F’rst thing I see, an’ it’s gotta be y’r ugly mug,” Cody slurs, basking in the sound of his brother’s laughter. The galaxy wouldn’t suddenly be alright again when he woke up, but it would bring Cody one step closer to okay. And then he would see Obi-Wan.

He let the darkness claim him as the image of his _jetii_ ’s smile flashed through his mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lets play a fun game of "where's waxer?" I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and the final chapter should be coming soon! 
> 
> there was no new mando'a - you can find all the trans. in the first chapter notes, that should show at the end of the entire fic!


	6. after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [animal death mention in the notes, sorry] I'm so sorry this is late! I've had a really rough few weeks, and I had to put my dog to sleep last week, which didn't exactly leave me in the mood to write a happy ending. I have, however, managed to love my boys enough to give them *this*, which maybe leaves a few ends untied, but certainly doesn't leave them unhappy!!
> 
> I have to say, I'm really not happy with this chapter, but I couldn't work out a way to make it better. the minute it's posted, I bet I'll have a million ideas. 
> 
> the tags have changed to reflect a new warning, but this chapter deals with post-op complications, which may or may not have some light internalised ableism. the hurt character isn't necessarily hard on themselves, just struggling to cope with the change.

“My name is Cody,” he tells his reflection. 

It doesn’t sit right in his mouth, not the way it once did. It no longer spills from his lips carelessly, his pronouns tacked on without thought. He has to consider it, now. His gut instinct is still to react to his designation, over the name he’d had for nine years. 

Another thing stolen from him, he thinks, and grits his teeth. 

The man in the mirror is another thing. He almost doesn’t recognise himself, the lines around his eyes and the liberal streaks of grey at his temples. According to Rex, the chip was what actually advanced their aging - Cody’s constant struggle against it forced the hormones it produced into overdrive. He ages like a natborn, now, but he’s lost years he’ll never get back. 

Rex appears in the reflection behind him. The look on his baby brother’s face is impossibly sad, filled with a terrible understanding. They match now - Cody has a second scar, identical to the one Rex has. The medic had offered to heal it entirely, but Rex had apparently refused for Cody, the same way he had done for himself. It was a reminder. They were safe now, or as close to safe as anyone got in this galaxy. 

Rex doesn’t say anything about this being the third time he’s found Cody talking to himself, or that he knows how Cody is feeling (he can’t, he can’t, because he never had his sense of self ripped from him, never hunted his own brother or shot his lover-), or even any platitudes. He simply offers Cody a hand and says, “‘Soka’s here.” 

Cody turns to take it, and lets his _vod_ help him to the landing pad. 

* * *

“Commander Cody,” Tano greets him with a smile as she steps off the ramp. She looks older than she had the last time he saw her - most of the baby fat is gone from her face, and she’s grown enough to tower over him, when once upon a time Rex had used her head as a leaning post. Even her montrals are taller, and longer, reaching down her spine. But it’s not just that. It’s the way she holds herself, with both confidence and humility. Her eyes are filled with as many shadows as his General’s once were.

The last time Cody had seen Ahsoka Tano, she was a kid with too much on her shoulders. The being in front of him was a grown woman. He was both proud and sad to see it. 

“General Tano,” he salutes, although his aim is still off a little. He tries not to let it get to him as he leans heavily on his cane. 

Tano winces, and shakes her head. “The Republic is gone. We don’t have ranks here.” 

“Then you ought to just call me Cody,” he replies, raising an eyebrow. 

She smiles ruefully. “That will take some getting used to,” she says. “I’m glad to see you. Rex has been…” 

_Frantic. Terrified. Grieving._ Pick any adjective. Cody can see what the strain of the past year has done to his little brother, and he knows he played no small part in that. He’s tried to imagine himself in that situation, knowing Rex has a chip in his head forcing him to play lap-dog for the Emperor; and every scenario ends with Cody getting himself killed in an attempt to free Rex. He knows that it’s only Tano’s influence that has stopped Rex from doing the same. 

“Thank you,” he says softly. “For taking care of him.” 

“I didn’t do anything, really,” she replies. “Just reminded him that you wouldn’t want him to do anything stupid.” 

“You did more than that,” Cody tells her. “I know it must have been difficult.”

“Yeah, well,” she says, embarrassed. “I’m glad you’re around to help me out now. Managing Rex is a two person job, and you’re scarier than me.” 

Cody snorts at that. He doesn’t feel very intimidating right now. He might have been able to override the chip on sheer willpower, but it had done its damage. His balance and fine motor control were practically non-existent, and recovery could take up to a year; not to mention the mess that was his psyche and long term memory functions. 

Unlike Boil, or any of the other _vod_ Rex had managed to save, Cody’s operation had went wrong, purely because of how hard he had fought the commands engineered into his brain. Removing the chip had left him practically comatose - would have killed him, in fact, if it hadn’t been for the _Jetii_ Healer. 

Because CC-2224’s suspicions had been right. Most of those in the Healing Halls had made it out alive.

* * *

“Healer Che had found _something_ inside of Waxer’s head when she had been operating - she deemed it less important than saving Waxer’s life at the time, but afterwards she recognised it. Master Che freed quite a few slaves over the years. She also recognised it was different somehow, and gave it to the technicians after contacting the Council. 

“The slicers worked out there were orders, deep inside the chip - it was plugged into one of their padds when it went live. The 212th...your chip was the first one activated, and you were hooked up with the rest of your battalion. It filtered through the ranks after, but you were the first one to receive it, along with the rest of the 212th. As soon as the slicer realised what was happening, she convinced those left in the Temple to evacuate. They wouldn’t have had the time if it hadn’t been for Waxer being a member of the 212th, and his chips link to yours.” 

Distantly, Cody thought she was trying to be comforting. It was a poor attempt to make him feel better, but she was trying. He wished that he could be grateful, but over the pounding in his ears

“I don’t know what happened with the Council. Master Obi-Wan certainly wasn’t told; and I doubt Master Plo had heard either - neither of them would have kept it a secret, and quite honestly, I doubt many of the other members would. I guess we’ll never know now,” Tano finishes, looking at her hands. 

“They lived, though?” he asks, voice rough. “They got out?” 

“Yes,” she confirms, offering him a smile. “The younglings at least. Most of the injured Knights and Masters, and even the non-combatants - they stayed behind. They wanted to defend ou-their home,” her face falls, but she rallies. “The Healers stayed with the younglings, though. They hoped they could help any survivors they came across.” 

Cody doesn’t need her to tell him that they hadn’t come across many. 

“They found Master Obi-Wan - or perhaps he found them. I was still trapped on Mandalore at this point, so I don’t know the full story - only that Master Obi-Wan had Pad-Senator Amidala with him, and that she...she died.” 

Her voice breaks at the last word, and Cody’s heart aches for her. Her own troops had turned on her, everyone except Rex, and the Jedi she had grown up with had started dying. Amidala would have been one of the few links she had to her old Master - Skywalker being one of the casualties of Operation Knightfall - was gone. 

“Most of the survivors have joined the Rebellion,” Tano forces out. “But a few didn’t. Master Obi-Wan was one of them. I don’t know why, and only Senator Organa knows where they went.” 

There’s a bitterness in her words that is both understandable, but also frustrating. Cody knew all too well why Obi-Wan, why any of the Jedi, may have just disappeared. Perhaps it was his own bias, but part of Cody was fiercely, selfishly glad, knowing that Obi-Wan wasn’t on the front lines. He only wished Rex was far away too. 

He doesn’t voice that to her though. Instead, he glances at the door where he _knows_ Boil and Rex are listening in at, and asks “Waxer?” 

“With Master Obi,” she confirms his suspicions. 

“I need to speak to Organa, then,” Cody says. 

“Look, I know it’s hard to believe, but he _left_ ,” she stresses. “I’ve been looking for him, and Senator Organa wouldn’t tell me. I don’t think-” 

“Ahsoka,” Cody stops her with a hand on her wrist. “Do you really think Obi-Wan Kenobi just _ran_ away?” Because as much as Cody wants to believe that he’s out, he knows his _cyare._

Tano looks away, but she shakes her head. 

“We’ll speak to Organa together. Either he’ll tell us where to find my General, or he can explain why he needs to keep his silence.” 

* * *

Cody’s mind has more holes in it than that weird cheese that Obi-Wan had liked, but it is his own again. He can see the bigger picture, can put pieces together that he couldn’t before. He can look at conversations in new light, and see events with a level of clarity he would soon wish he'd lost.

_“What better punishment, then, that your traitorous’ ex-master’s loyal Commander betrayed him, and became my loyal Commander? That his men were now my men?”_

He doesn’t want to believe it. Vader was - Vader was everything the new Empire stood for, tyranny and oppression and evil. Vader was the Emperor’s lap dog. 

_“Thank you, Master. You are...most generous.”_

Skywalker, despite all of his flaws, was loyal to a fault. He was impulsive, and stupid, but he loved deeply, with everything he had. He loved his Master, and he loved his Senator, and Cody knew that he would have done everything he could have to keep them both happy and safe. Cody couldn’t imagine him betraying Obi-Wan or Amidala, and everything they stood for. 

_“Rex?” Vader asks, sounding choked._

But Vader - he knew him. Vader had known who Cody was, had recognised him. Had recognised _Rex_ \- and, unlike Cody, who had always garnered a lot of attention due to his rank, Rex was practically unknown, especially outside of the 501st armour. 

_(because the 501st are Vader’s Fist, and their original numbers are dropping like flies)_

Vader’s fist...The storming of the Temple…

Cody swallows back bile. Skywalker - Skywalker had loved his men. Skywalker wouldn’t let them die, wouldn’t let them become _slaves_ , the man had been a slave himself! 

He’d also loved Rex. And Rex had loved him back. 

_Vader seems to make a decision, taking one last, almost_ longing _look at Rex, before he deliberately turned his back on the three of them, and stalked away in the other direction._

Force. This would kill his _vod._ But the Rebellion needed to know. 

* * *

“Thank you for telling me this,” Organa says, face grave. “Master Kenobi had been so sure he was dead…”

Knowing what Skywalker had become, Cody wishes he was. But he had his suspicions about _why_ Obi-Wan had thought him dead. The suit was undoubtedly a form of life support. If he was right…

“I need to see him,” Cody says. “He needs to hear it from me.” 

Tano’s head snapped up. She was clinging to Rex’s hand, as if she might break if she let go; or perhaps that he would. Her eyes were red-rimmed, while Rex’s face was perfectly blank, but Cody could read him better than anyone else in the galaxy. His brother was ready to snap. 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Organa replies. 

“Sir,” Cody starts, only to be interrupted.

“No, Commander. There is more at stake here than Master Kenobi’s ex-student’s betrayal,” the Senator says sharply. 

Cody isn’t _stupid._ He knows that Obi-Wan wouldn’t have just abandoned a fledgeling Rebellion, no matter how tired he was. His _cyare_ was too damn stubborn, and too damn _good_. He wouldn’t leave a battlefield until he knew he had done all he could.

The war would never be over, not within Cody’s lifetime, and not in Obi-Wan’s; he knew that now. They were naive back then, making promises neither of them could keep. 

But the galaxy had taken everything else from them. Cody refused to let it take Obi-Wan from him, or himself from Obi-Wan. 

“You have a wife,” Cody says, and watches Organa blink. “You love her, yes?” 

“Of course I do,” he replies, nonplussed by Cody’s non-sequitur. 

“What would you do if she shot you?” 

“What?” 

Cody looks him square in the eyes, and keeps his voice steady. “Imagine you and her are hours away from the thing you’ve both been waiting for. You’re ecstatic. You both have plans. And then, out of the blue - without any warning, because she’s just told you she loved you - she pulls out a gun and shoots you in the back.” 

Rex makes a choked noise, and of course his _vod’ika_ would understand, because Rex is the only one who ever really understood Cody, but he doesn’t look at him. He just keeps his eyes on Organa. 

“She nearly kills you - maybe she thinks she did. And all you know is that your wife shot you. How would you feel?” he leans closer. “What would you feel if you found out there was a chip in her head that forced her to do it?” 

Tano gasps, and there’s a muffled sound - Rex must have stopped her from interrupting.

Organa’s eyes flicker with realisation. “You’re the secret lover.” 

Cody’s eyebrows raise, and Organa smiles. 

“Don’t look so surprised. Obi-Wan and I were friends. Breha too. He had approached my wife for some advice. Something about coming out to a potential partner,” he says, and Cody suddenly understands. “My wife is just like Obi-Wan.” 

“I need to see him, sir. Not just - Vader. I need to see with my own two eyes that I didn’t kill him.” 

Organa’s mouth tightens, but Cody knows he’s won.

* * *

“You’ll be back,” Bolt says. “I don’t want you to come back, but I know you.” 

“Maybe I just want to retire quietly, B,” he says, watching Boil and Tano load the ship up. Rex, who has taken up Cody’s position of professional worry-wart, is triple checking with the medics that Cody is safe to travel. Cody doesn’t give a damn if he’s healthy enough to travel; he’s going to Tatooine, regardless of what medical advice is. 

“Maybe you do,” she replies. “But you’re _ori’vod_ to your core, and you’re a stubborn bastard to boot _._ You’ve never sat out of something in your life. Especially if you know that there’s _vod’e_ out there.” 

She’s right, and he knows it. He left the 212th behind, left Wooley, and Gearshift, and all of his _vod’ike_ he’d fought for and with. Fox, still trapped in his own mind. Wolffe and Gregor, helping the Rebellion. Rex’s battalion. Close to two million _vod’e_ with chips in their heads, forced to serve a man who unmade them. 

Cody is still coming to grips with being Cody again, but he knows enough about who he is to say he can’t leave them. 

“ _K’oyacyi, Kote,_ ” she says, and takes his face in her hands, and leans her forehead against his. “ _Ret'urcye mhi, vod._ May you find what you are looking for.” 

Cody leans into the touch, and feels the truth, deep in his bones. He will. He has to. 

* * *

He walks past Tano’s offered arm, and swats at her with his stick when she tries to step closer, and glares at her and his _vod_ when they make disapproving noises. “Lieutenant, if you try to lift me, I’m going to shove this stick up so far up your _shebs_ you’ll be tasting plastoid,” he warns, and Boil abruptly changes course, allowing Cody to climb up the ramp unhindered. 

He makes it all the way up to the cockpit before Rex catches up with him, and by that time he’s exhausted, his body aching with the effort it took to get there, and bitter over how useless he feels. 

“You’re too karking stubborn, _vod,_ ” Rex grumbles as he helps Cody into the chair. “Stop pushing yourself so hard.”

“Oh like you’ve ever taken it easy in your life,” he snaps back, before sighing. It’s not Rex’s fault he feels like this, he knows. 

“I always let you take care of me when I need it,” Rex tells him, peeking up at Cody through his lashes, and he’s that blonde cadet with no friends all over again, young and vulnerable and _Cody’s._ “Let me help you.” 

“Sorry,” Cody mutters, and lets Rex belt him in, before pulling him into a hug. Rex stiffens, before melting into it, holding onto Cody like he might disappear the second he lets go. “I’m just not used to…” 

“Being taken care of?” 

He thinks about the way Obi-Wan had made him eat, and sleep; had brought him treats and gave him time off even if they probably couldn’t afford it. But then, Cody had done the same for him, hadn’t he? 

“Being unable to reciprocate,” he responds, and Rex shakes his head. 

“Love isn’t a transaction, _di’kut,_ ” he swats at Cody, gently. “And even if it was, I would be so deep in debt I’d never recover. Stop being stupid, stupid.” 

Tano and Boil enter the cockpit before Cody has a chance to respond, and Rex stands up to take the co-pilots seat, joking with Tano as Boil belts up beside Cody himself. The air is thick with anticipation, even as they all try to ignore the elephant in the room. Cody can see Boil’s hands flex, and he knocks his _vod_ on the shins with his cane, gently. Boil glances at him, before exhaling loudly, relaxing. 

“Alright, everyone,” Tano says, starting the flight sequence. “Who’s ready for a dustball?” 

“Can’t be worse than Geonosis, can it?” Cody snorts as the ship begins to rise. 

“At least it’s not Felucia,” Rex says. 

“I don’t think my blacks ever dried out on Felucia,” Boil states, shuddering. 

“Don’t worry, there’s no chance of mud on Tatooine,” Tano calls as they reach atmo, and nods at Rex. Rex grins, and Cody settles in for a long ride through hyperspace, with two of the students from Skywalker’s piloting school. 

* * *

Tano hadn’t been exaggerating, when she described it as a dustball. Sand stretched out as far as the eye could see, towering dunes of the stuff being the only visible landmarks. But these were the coordinates, and sand was an excellent deceiver. 

“Don’t suppose Organa warned them we were coming, huh?” 

“We didn’t really give him the time to,” Rex reminds Boil, steadying Cody when he loses his footing on the uneven ground. 

“I can feel people,” Tano says, her hands near her ‘sabers. Cody can’t blame her; he wanted a blaster in his own right now. 

“Friendly or unfriendly?” 

“Depends on who’s asking,” a new voice says, and Cody whips around to see a young woman, dressed for the desert, pointing a blaster at them. 

“My name is Ahsoka Tano,” Tano begins, taking a step forward, before the woman aims the blaster at her. Out of the corner of his eye, Cody sees Rex lunge for his own, before someone else climbs the dune behind her. 

“Beru? Are you alright- Ahsoka?” 

Cody would know that voice anywhere. He’s moving before he even has a chance to think about it, shrugging off Rex’s restraining hand to get closer. 

“Cody? Oh, sweet Force,” Obi-Wan says, pushing the woman’s hand down and crossing the scant few feet that separated them. Cody drops his cane the moment Obi-Wan is within reach, grabbing onto his General with desperate fingers, and Obi-Wan feels just as frantic, if the way he takes Cody’s face into his hands is any indication. “You’re okay? Tell me, you’re alright -” 

Cody’s legs give out, and they tumble onto their knees in the sand.

“ _Cyare,_ ” Cody manages, tugging an unresisting Obi-Wan closer to bury his face in the other man’s neck, and sobs: “ _Ni ceta, ni ceta, ni kar’taylir darasuum, cyare -”_

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Obi-Wan says, pulling Cody’s head away and looking into his eyes. “ _Nothing._ I am - I am so glad you’re okay. You’re alive. _Force._ ” 

He’s greyer around the edges, his eyes ringed with dark circles, and his face lined with stress and fear, and he’s still the most beautiful man Cody has ever seen. Cody presses their foreheads together, and lets out a shaky breath, pressing trembling fingers to Obi-Wan’s neck, to feel the pulse of blood through living veins. Obi-Wan wipes tears that Cody hadn’t even realised he had cried off of his cheeks, and gives him a painfully small, tremulous smile. 

“Hello there,” he says, and Cody chokes on a laugh. “I’ve missed you.” 

“Well, I hate to break up a party,” the woman - Beru - says, putting her blaster away. “But does anyone want to tell me what the hell is going on?” 

* * *

The moment Waxer had recognised a stunned Boil, frozen at the entrance of the compound, he’d made a wounded noise, reaching for his hoverchair from his space on the ground. The young zeltron girl he’d been sitting with - an escaped youngling, Cody realised - had grabbed Boil’s hand and dragged him over to Waxer. The two had been wrapped up in each other in the hours that had passed since, and Cody had barely gotten a second glance. He didn’t mind. He felt the same about Obi-Wan. 

There were over twenty people on the moisture farm, excluding the new arrivals; most were Jedi younglings, and one or two Knights, who’d shed their Jedi clothes in order to blend in. They’d dug deeper tunnels underground to house them all. Owen Lars, an infant held firmly in his lap, had sighed when he’d seen them arrive, but Beru - his wife, Cody presumed - had kissed him on the lips and said they could make room for a few more. 

They’d need to talk, later. Tano needed an explanation from her grandmaster about why he had left. Cody needed to tell him about Skywalker. They needed to talk about the still-controlled troopers. But right now, sitting in the twilight, with Obi-Wan’s head on his shoulder, and Rex’s hand wrapped around his ankle as his brother snored at his feet - 

Right now, Cody couldn’t give a damn about the rest of the galaxy. 

Obi-Wan’s fingers twined with his as they watched the youngest of the children, Luke, giggle and roll onto his belly on his blanket, while one of the older ones kept him occupied. 

“I’m so sorry,” Obi-Wan whispers into the quiet. “I shouldn’t have left you there. I knew something was wrong, I knew you - and the troops - wouldn’t have hurt me. I should have tried to help you, should have knocked you out and dragged you off of that Force damned planet -” 

“There was a battalion of us, Obi-Wan. You couldn’t have taken us all down - you would have killed yourself trying,” he interrupts. 

“I shouldn’t have left you on Coruscant. When Bail told me where Sidious had you, I nearly broke cover. I should have.” 

“You couldn’t,” Cody murmurs, brushing his lips against Obi-Wan’s hair. “That’s exactly what he wanted you to do. He’d have captured you, made an example.” 

Obi-Wan shakes his head, but stops arguing. “I don’t think I managed to say this before, but,” he pauses, shifting so he is facing Cody. “You are...one of the most important things in the galaxy to me. I’m sorry I’ve never said it, but Cody...I love you.” 

Cody smiles, gently, knowing how hard that was for his reserved _cyare_ to say. “ _Ner’jetii,_ you’re an idiot if you think I don’t know that,” he says fondly, cupping Obi-Wan’s face with his hand. Obi-Wan smiles, breathless, and Cody continues, “I said it earlier, but - _Ni kar’taylir darasuum._ ” 

“That’s cheating,” Obi-Wan complains. “I went and said it in basic and everything.” 

Cody laughs quietly, pulling Obi-Wan forward. “Can I kiss you?” Cody asks, unintentionally echoing Obi-Wan’s words of almost three years before. 

“Of course,” Obi-Wan replies, and their lips slot together. 

Rex snores cut off, and he grunts, rolling over. “Oh, gross,” he whined as he opened his eyes. “I don’t wanna see that, come on -” 

Cody broke the kiss to laugh. 

The galaxy was still on fire. The Empire reigned, seemingly undefeatable. But his name is Cody, not CC-2224. His brother, and his _cyare_ were safe. _He_ was safe. Everything else could wait till the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that is a wrap!...okay, not entirely. as you've probably gathered, I'm not *quite* done with this 'verse yet. as I mentioned last chapter, there will be an extended "rebellion" chapter - building on this fic, but diverging drastically from diogenes canon. you can check that out if you're interested, but if you just want to see *this* canon, I've got a few ideas. while I probably won't post anything the length of diogenes, I will have an epilogue close to ANH era (but that's a while out). 
> 
> I also have a series of snippets planned, and I will definitely take any prompts for some on my writing tumblr someawkwardprose, if anyone has anything they desperately need to see! otherwise, please subscribe to the series if you want to read them!
> 
> as usual, most of the mando'a is from chapter one, but here's the new ones:  
> Ret'urcye mhi - Goodbye: lit. *Maybe we'll meet again*  
> Ni ceta - lit. “I kneel”, an extreme form of grovelling/apology

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think, and if you noticed any glaring mistakes, feel free to point them out! tipsy xmas day editing is probs not the best, lmao. next chapter will hopefully be up next week!
> 
> Like any good clone wars fan, I used mandoa.org for my Mando’a translations, and the greatest resource for any SW fan, Wookiepedia  
> Vod - Sibling  
> Vod’e - Siblings  
> Ori~ - Big/Older  
> ~’ika - Little/Younger  
> Kaminii - Kaminoans  
> Kote - Glory - name headcanon borrowed from [@captaingondolin](https://captaingondolin.tumblr.com/post/172588014543/cody-is-just-a-transposition-in-basic-his-chosen)  
> Traat’aliit - Squad/Team  
> Ori’skraan - Big Eats/Good Food  
> Yai’yai - *richly nourishing* - peculiarly Mandalorian description of dense, high-calorie food, of great importance to people dependent on highly portable field rations - I’ve used it here to mean like, nourishing but bland.  
> Elek/’lek - Yes/Yeah  
> Shebs - Buttocks  
> Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la - Not gone, merely marching far away. (Tribute to a dead comrade.)  
> Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum - I’m still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal - daily remembrance of those passed on, followed by the names of those being remembered  
> Mando’ade - Mandalorians  
> Manda’yaim - Mandalore  
> Mand’alor - Sole Ruler (of Mandalore)  
> Resol’nare - Six Actions, the tenets of Mando life  
> Shabuir - An Insult; asshole, essentially.  
> Olaror - Come  
> Alor’ad - Captain  
> Jetii - Jedi  
> Ner~ - My  
> Osik - shit

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [the blood on my hands scares me to death](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22470682) by [MageOfCole](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MageOfCole/pseuds/MageOfCole)
  * [See(ing) You Again](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24695779) by [innocent_until_proven_geeky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/innocent_until_proven_geeky/pseuds/innocent_until_proven_geeky)




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